Pretendre Desir Amour
by carmelinagunn
Summary: Pretend. Desire. Love. Bella Swan is good at pretending. Edward Cullen is good at making it all too real. "You cannot desire what you do not know". ExB, some OOC, canon loves. started as a one shot but now a full story
1. The Pretender

**Disclaimer for the whole story: Twilight is not mine. Never has been, never will be. I'm ok with that.**

**A/N: This story, the first chapter, was originally written for the Pretend Date Contest. It got 3rd place. I've decided to continue with it. Hopefully it works out :)**

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**CHATPER 1 - The Pretender**

_"Keep you in the dark_

_You know they all pretend_

_Keep you in the dark_

_And so it all began"_

- Foo Fighters "The Pretender"

**BPOV**

No, I uncharacteristically did not have any interest in the party Jess begged me to attend tonight.

No, I did not want to get drunk and go through my usual round-about flirting routine with Jacob Black.

And, no, I definitely did not want anything to do with the dramatic love fest that was Rosalie and Emmett.

Not tonight. I was sick of it all.

I'd been away for the summer, this was only my second full day back, and it was odd returning. I chose to spend my summer break in Phoenix with my mother and Phil. It was a move no one had anticipated because I love my life in Seattle. It's no secret that for the past year I thoroughly enjoyed attending cosmetology school, my small but wonderful apartment, and nearly everyone I came in contact with... but late last spring everything that made my life special had just started feeling so mundane.

So I decided to take a break for a while. To escape? Run Away? I'm still not sure. Either, both, or neither, the point was that I had left and now I had to return and try to hold on to who I had become while finally letting go of the biggest reason behind why I had left.

Certain circumstances causing certain heartbreak over a certain boy (who was not worth it) were said "biggest reason" for my sudden summer departure. I don't care much for reliving the details of my horrid affair with James. Let's just say it was passionate, short lived, and devestating enough to make me second guess every single thing I knew about myself.

So after realizing I couldn't fully recover while trying to conceal my distaste for everything painsaking familiar about my life, I fled back to my home land, spending the summer searching the desert landscape for some sort of sun filled escape. My efforts had not been futile. During my 3 months in Arizona I _had_ found myself again, simply by being with myself. I stripped away what I thought about the type of girl Jessica expected me to be, or the way I constantly compared myself to Rosalie's modelesque looks, or how I just wanted to be "cool" enough for the other girls at our fashion obsessed school.

Maybe it was all part of growing up, which, for the record, was not something I was in a rush to do, but I spent the summer becoming ok with being _me_. I had to take time to figure out who Bella Swan really was. And now that I had taken my summer of self-discovery (as horribly feel-good summer movie plot as that sounds) I could proudly say that Bella Swan was finally 100 percent pleased with Bella Swan.

It had made returning to school a bit difficult, however.

I still loved all of them dearly, my friends and confidants in life that surrounded me here in Seattle. Rosalie, Jess, Emmett, Mike, and Jacob were the small group of people that I was always around and always happy with. We had our routines and our inside jokes. We had a balanced ebb and flow within the group. We knew which hook ups you talked about, and which you didn't. We knew when to yell at each other, laugh, cry, boast... everything. It was a fantastic group of people. And the party tonight wasn't all that bad. I mean, Mike had definitely thrown worse parties in the past year I'd been involved in this crowd.

It was just all so... _mundane_ these days. And I wanted to be shook up.

I looked around the crowded living room and sighed. The _noise _of my lifewas just too familiar to me. And the familiarity was scaring me. The me that I had found over the summer didn't fear change like I once had. I wanted it. Needed it, even. I was gazing around the room just begging someone to do _something_ different.

_Please Jessica, _just this once_ do not follow Mike around like a puppy_.

_Please Rosalie,_ just this once _do not check yourself in the mirror right outside of the kitchen before entering to grab yourself another vodka cranberry._

_Please, for the love of all that is good and holy, Jacob Black_ do not _come over here with your smile that reminds me of Phoenix sunshine and how much I just want to be loved.  
_  
None of them were listening to my silent pleas, however. So by the time I'd spent 30 minutes watching Jessica hold Mike's beer while played Rockband, seen Rose reapply lip gloss 5 separate times before entering the kitchen, and noticed a wide-eyed, bright smiled Jacob making his way over to me, the _noise_ of their laughter, their flirting, their color coded music and their every day greetings had grown into too loud of a familiar humm around me. And I needed to get out of it. Now.

I wandered around the outside of the house, dodging the numerous bodies that were littered outside as well. I hummed along with "Things Aren't Like They Used To Be" by the Black Keys as it came throbbing out of the really awesome speakers Mike had just installed inside his house and out. As I made my way to the back yard I started innocently plotting my escape from all things familiar, thinking I'd flee to London or Norway or Peru this time.

It was a habit I'd picked up during the summer as I sat out by my mother's new pool. I read any fantasy novel I could get my hands on during my time in Phoenix. Isolating yourself from anything past Jessica Stanley's insesent text messaging gave one plenty of free time to read. Submerging myself in such a great amount of fantasy literature did a number on my imagination, and in the past few weeks I'd found myself using the new creative muscle to imagine myself escaping the every-dayness that was suffocating me and fleeing to some exciting foreign country and circumstance.

I'd met a girl at cosmetology school that had toured Norway with her band, so that was always an option in my made-up escapes. Paris, Rome and Spain played a part of my elaborate daydreams frequently as well. Pretending had become my biggest ally in escaping the suffocating feeling of all the _noise_. Childish or not, it was second nature to me now.

No one had to know I spent half of my time creating a fake life inside of my head. It kept me happy, sane, even, in an ironic kind of way. Funny how going borderline off-the-wall crazy can seem like the most grounding thing in the world sometimes.

I was searching out the quietest place I could find, pulling out a clove to smoke as I escaped into my imaginings, when it happened.

I stopped dead in my tracks, causing the person who'd been following closely behind me to bump into me but thankfully not cause me to tumble over like I'd been prone to do before, thanks to some not-so-great balance genes I'd picked up from some distant relative or another.

I was now in the very middle of the crowded back yard, parallel to the gaint gazebo Mike built last year. It looked really nice tonight, like something straight out of my imagination, actually.

The wooden structure was strung with thousands of tiny white lights all over it's supports and roof, no doubt Jessica's doing. She'd been scheming with her friend Angela on how to "vamp up" Mike's glamorous condo's features ever since she took up permanent residence in his bed last Valentine's day.

Anyway, the thing looked magical and stunning. But the enchanting glow dancing off of the gazebo was not what had taken my breath away.

Standing on the left side of the glowing scene, leaning as casually as possible up against one of the beams, was the most amazing man I had ever seen.

Man? No. Guy? God?

No words in my vocabulary seemed appropriate to describe him.

"Man" seemed to be too... adult for him. Although he was obviously taller than most others, and at least my age, 22, something about him was still playfull and un-manish. Almost boyish. But "boy" certainly wasn't correct, and "guy" seemed to plain a word for him. He was more extraordinary than any of those three letter combonations.

And "god", well... okay. That seemed the most accurate, actually. But even in my wildest imaginings no god was allowed to attend things like "Mike's Super Big Drink Your Face Off Fall Bash". Emmett's name for the party, not mine.

He was effortless perfection in his fitted, worn, dark brown jeans, plain white, somehwhat snug t-shirt, and beaten up red converse.

His forearms bore tattoos, though I couldn't see the details of what they were due to the distance I was at and the odd lighting he was bathed in. His face was angular, pale, perfect. But it was the hair that really did it for me. The hair was an absolute mess atop his head. It was thick and unruly. He pulled his hand through it as I stood there staring at him, as if he knew that would make me even more crazy.

The most surprising thing about him, though, was the fact that he was completely alone.

Surely at least one person was missing his company. Surely someone like him was constantly being sought after. He was probably waiting for a very Rosalie-like goddess to fetch him a drink or something. He was probably playing hard to get with some poor girl who was in love with him. The exceptionally good looking males were apt to do things like that.

That knowledge was one of the few helpful things James had left me with.

Or perhaps this beautiful person _was_ alone by choice. Exceptionally good looking males did that as well. Pushed away those who would love them forever... I sighed and shook my head to clear the thoughts.

No James tonight. _That_ familiar noise was not creeping back into my life, no matter what.

Shaking my head had also somewhat cleared my daze so I moved to the other side of the back yard where I had been headed initially. I perched on the small rock wall and made sure I had a very clear view of him as I sat, sipped my rum and coke, pulled the life out of the clove, and imagined this Adonis into my life.

Yes, I knew the very second I saw him that he would take the lead in anything my mind imagined from this point out. How could he not? He was leading man material. I wasn't entirely convinced I hadn't gone over the deep end and hallucinated him into existence myself.

I watched as he pulled a black lighter out of his pocket and flicked it on. His deep eyes watched the flame dance and he sighed heavily and licked his lips as he let the flame extinguish, only to light it again once it went out.

This brings us to the moment I lost control over my head.

I imagined him as _mine_. It was far too easy for me to sit 25 feet away from him and pretend he was my soul mate, just standing in the twinkling wooden dome, waiting for me to find him and kiss him hello.

I couldn't give him a name, because nothing in my brain seemed to fit him. He wasn't a Charlie like my father, or an Emmett like my self-proclaimed big brother currently inside playing video game drums. He wasn't a Mike or a Tyler or Ben. Nothing ordinary could contain him, name or otherwise.

Which only drove me farther in my new need to be as un-ordinary as possible. The changes the summer had brought me were suddenly very important to me, and I swelled with pride as I realized I wasn't as ordinary as I once had been. I'd found my own uniqueness. I dared to hope I was even interesting enough for someone like him. Perhaps I was unique enough not to be discarded from his life carelessly like I had been last winter.

I still wasn't what would fit with _him_ though, surely.

I sighed and took the final drag of my clove, putting it out and turning back to the solitary figure in the gazebo who had no idea my mind was turning him into my in-my-head pretend boyfriend.

In my head were at this party together, in love, but skirting around each other in a flirty sort of way. We knew we'd be going home together, so we made a silent agreement to spend time with others until we returned home hand in hand, like we did every night before and would be doing every night after.

He would be standing in the gazebo with Emmett and a few other nameless guys that were his friends instead of alone like he was now, and I would be doing a shot with Rosalie and Jess, raising the small amount of alcohol in the air to praise the large amount of love we all held for our men.

In my head he stole glances from me across the backyard, pulling out his black lighter and standing next to me for a few seconds to light my clove for me before stealing a drag from it and kissing my cheek. I'd be sitting on this wall watching him walk back over to the guys, and Mike wouldn't be playing Rockband guitar right now because he'd be in a real band with my loving boyfriend, who was talented at... something interesting... like the dulcimer. Guitar and paino were all good and well, and my loving boyfriend could no doubt rock those, but he'd be more complex than that. He had to be.

Sometimes my imagination takes a few seconds to come up with something truly interesting, but it usually never fails.

I sighed and pushed off of the wall, needing to go back inside before I got caught blatantly staring at the angel under the white lights.

I would take him with me though, in the pretend way. It would help me get through the night, and the _noise_, and the suffocation of all things familiar if I could bring the Pretend with me.

I walked back around the house, taking one last glance towards the sex hair and the tattoos.

As my Pretend Boyfriend he glanced back at me and smiled before I turned the corner, making me a secret promise of making up for the time I'd be apart from him while we socialized at the party.

Oh the things he was going to do to make it up to me...

I shivered and smiled and loved my imagination even more as that thought came to me.

I pushed through the living room crowd and smiled at Jessica and Rosalie who were discussing hair and nails while perching on Mike's big leather couch. We were all cosmo girls, and we all loved the creative outlet our school offered, but sometimes I wasn't as into the materialistic side of it as they were. I was attracted to the idea of expressing individuality through looks. Providing that individualism for people was what sparked my interest to join the profession in the first place.

Bleach-blond Rose and low-lighted Jessica were more conventional in their reasoning for beauty school, but they honestly loved it like I did so there was no reason to judge.

As they smiled back to me I kept The Boyfriend in the front of my mind, finding his pretend presence in my heart comforting. Knowing he was out there, _pretending_ he was out there waiting for the minute_ I_ could be there with him again, just helped calm the awful humming of the _noise_.

Jake was talking to Leah in the dining room and I avoided them both, thinking in my mind how The Boyfriend wouldn't appreciate the kind of looks I would get from Black. That's what Pretend Boyfriend now called Jake, despite how I rolled my eyes whenever it happened. Everyone The Boyfriend wasn't particularly fond of got the last name treatment, and my flirtacious history with Jacob had given Pretend Boyfriend enough reason to put him on the crap list. It was endearing, his protectiveness over me, so I let it continue and didn't miss Jacob's advances on bit.

I found myself smiling as I made my way into the kitchen and poured myself another rum and coke. I had no intention of getting crazy tonight, but I knew I'd be here a little longer so I filled up my cup for the second, and probably last time.

I turned around with my newly full drink but was stopped short in my action as something small and giggly crashed into me, making me spill almost half of it all over both of us.

"Oh eff," a beautiful high-pitched voice mumbled. "Not the new Chanel sweater! Damn. No, no, _no_."

"I'm so sorry," I gasped, setting down my drink and grabbing paper towels to wipe down this tiny stranger's apparently designer sweater before I tended to my less important 10 dollar black halter top.

"Paper towels?" she gaped at me, lifting her shining green eyes to me and pursing her lipstick tinted lips. "I think not!'

With that she stopped fussing over her sweater, which was actually a full dress, laughed one of the most light hearted, care-free laughs I had ever heard, and grabbed my wrist to pull me from the kitchen.

"Where are we going?" I asked, part of me thinking The Boyfriend wouldn't be happy if he couldn't find me when he came in the house.

I smiled to myself at that errant thought before we crossed the foyer. My pretending skills had gotten good.

"We are going to save my Chanel, of course. And your..." she looked over to my non-designer covered chest and quirked an eyebrow. "That."

She kept a hold of my wrist and gestured at my halter top with her other hand, letting out another small laugh and a warm smile when she met my eyes.

"It's from the vintage shop downtown," I explained with a shrug, not caring much for labels.

She grunted in approval and nodded once, somehow making me feel better by not judging me for my lack of interest in clothing preferences, though that sort of thing seemed to be extremely important to her.

We were headed up the stairs now and I glanced back down, wishing I could catch the eye of The Boyfriend to pretend more efficiently that he was worried about my sudden disappearance from the kitchen. No such luck though.

He was probably still outside, oblivious to the funny story I would have for him later, about the tiny woman that laughed like a fairy and pulled me around Mike's condo with authority.

"Bathroom," she commanded the second we entered the hallway at the top of Mike's stairs.

I obeyed her command slipping into the second door on the left while she disappeared in the guest bedroom door to the right. I was surprised at the tone she managed to speak with. It was both commanding and kind. Forceful but not pushy.

I'd never heard anything like it, and something about it drew me in.

A few seconds later she came into the bathroom behind me, pulling out some sort of wipe from her giant turquoise purse and dabbing her sweater where it was wet from my spilled drink.

She handed me one of the wipes and smiled, looking at me through the mirror as we stood side by side.

"Dab, don't swipe. The material doesn't like it when you rub in foreign substances."

"Who are you?" I asked bluntly as I started dabbing, apparently avoiding hurting my halter top's feelings.

"Alice Cullen," she replied, not in introduction but as a fact. This Alice _knew_ who she was.

"You're new? To Mike's parties?" I asked, throwing away the used wipe and leaning against the counter.

I contemplated how nice it would be to take my cell phone out of my pocket to check for a text from Boyfriend, but I wasn't sure it would be realistic that he would be panicked about my being gone yet, so I erased the sensation all together.

"Yes ma'am," Alice agreed as she ran her hand through her spiky hair.

It looked a lot like the action of Boyfriend's in the gazebo, but her hand manuver was calculated while his seemed uncontrolled. She was methodically caressing the black spikes of her stylish do, while he had just been igniting a fire in my groin and going through the motion as some sort of habit.

"But don't worry, Bella, we'll be friends in no time."

She forsake the mirror then, turning to me and smiling at me in real life. I couldn't help but smile back. She was contagious all around.

"You know me, Alice?"

"Sure do. Most people already know me, too. _You're _just a little late."

I cocked an eyebrow at her and she laughed teasingly.

"I'm late... to knowing you?" I laughed.

"Well, you're later than everyone else. I've been in town for a few weeks, helping my brother get settled. Rosalie and I hit it off when I stopped in to your school to get my nails done last week. She didn't say anything about you until tonight, though. I find that odd seeing as how you're good friends and all."

She was leaning against the counter now, mirroring my stance, looking up into my eyes to calculate me.

"Oh. I sort of disappeared over the summer. I needed... a break. I love Rosalie to death, Jess, too, who I'm sure you've met. But I sort of disconnected myself from them up until about 2 days ago. Rosalie took my distance the hardest. I'm not surprised she didn't say anything about me. She doesn't take being_ ignored_ very well."

"Why'd you ignore your friend?"

"I didn't. I wasn't around, or calling regularly, but I was _not _ignoring. Rose _decided _I was ignoring her, so that's what we're calling it," I rolled my eyes and Alice cracked a slightly lopsided smile. "She's not mad at me anymore so I'm letting it be," I finished with a small shrug.

"Yeah, she's not fickle. She didn't seem mad at you when I asked."

I tilted my head in surprise as Alice started digging through her purse.

"Asked?"

"Yeah. About you."

Alice Cullen ignored my questioning stare and started applying clear lip gloss.

"Why?" I asked with a short laugh.

"You looked interesting," she shrugged. "Your tattoos caught... my eye so I decided I needed to know more about you. They're gorgeous, by the way."

I blushed and looked down at my arms. Comliments still make me a bit uncomfortable. All my mind could think about was the fact that stunning little Alice called something about me gorgeous.

The tattoos had been a growing obsession of mine. It was something I discovered I enjoyed around Christmas time the year before, when Emmett drunkenly decided he wanted to get a cheeseburger tattooed on his arm at "Mike's Super Big Drink Your Face Off _Christmas_ Bash". Clearly by the time he'd sobered up the idea was out the window, but we ended up in a tattoo shop the next day anyway, and Rosalie talked me into getting a rose somewhere.

I never thought I'd do it. No one did. But it was the beginning of my need for change.

So I got 2 roses.

I now had the two flowers on each my shoulders, which began my mini obsession with halter tops, a small heart on the base of my ring finger, and on the inside of my right forearm I had the Eiffel Tower with red lettering at the base, wrapping round my wrist.

"Thanks," I responded to her compliment, sparing a look at my arm out of habit when the tattoos were mentioned.

"Desire," Alice sated in a soft voice as she gently lifted my wrist.

I instantly felt like a true friend was handling me, and it sort of shocked me that a simple touch from her had conveyed so much. Her declaration of our inevitable friendship from a few minutes prior was validified for me. This Alice Cullen knew what she was talking about, whether it be about who she is or who you will be to her... again she just _knew_.

"Yeah," I breathed, smiling at the new friend turning my wrist slowly as she read the foreign words of my tattoo.

"I'm sorry, I can't get the whole sentence. My French is a teensy rusty. What does it say?" she squinted up at me.

"_On ne peut désirer ce qu'on ne connaît pas_. You cannot desire what you do not know."

I spoke the quote quietly as she continued to hold my wrist. A silent, peaceful moment passing between us. I had no idea what Alice was thinking, but my mind was being flooded with the many reasons that quote had come to mean so much to me.

Despite the hurt, the pain, the tragedy of the past... I knew I still at least desired _something_. And I wouldn't know how to long for it properly if I'd never really had it. Right?

"You'd like my brother."

She said the words with confidence as she dropped my wrist and leaned down to adjust something on her black leather boots. It was another one of those sentences she just spit out into the universe, off her own accord. Something she said as fact and truth. Something not to be argued with.

"Ok," I replied, because she hadn't been wrong about anything yet.

I watched her pull a small blow dryer out of her purse and plug it in to the wall. She flipped the setting to "low" and started running the air over her sweater-dress and humming a song I'd never heard before.

I started to think that this night was getting a little weird.

It's not that the night wasn't a good one. I liked meeting Alice, and I really liked The Boyfriend, clearly. I liked being back in Seattle, and I liked the fact that I was currently away from all of the _noise_ downstairs... but something felt weird about standing in a bathroom with a tiny woman in Chanel that was going to be my friend for, I don't even know how long, before she left her settled in, like-able brother and went home to who knows where.

In my head I needed to get back downstairs to see if Boyfriend was ready to go home yet. It wasn't late, but sometimes we escaped early, just to go back to my apartment or his to watch a movie, love, laugh, cook, or really do anything that involved being _us_.

Butsomething kept me in that real life bathroom instead of my silly imaginary relationship in my head. Something made me stay. Boyfriend could wait, anyway. He'd always wait for me. It was easy to put imaginary people on hold. Alice wasn't going to be around much longer, so time with her was important.

"When do you leave?" I asked over the blow dryer, suddenly curious.

"2 days," she answer-yelled back with a frown.

"Where do you live?"

"Chicago."

The same frown appeared.

"You don't like it?"

"It's great. It's been my whole life though. I'm ready to move on. Maybe New York. Maybe California. Maybe Seattle."

She turned off the blow dryer and started laughing when she mentioned Seattle. Nothing was actually funny, so I sort of just smiled at her as she continued her beautiful laugh until her little private joke ended.

"My brother likes to read," she announced once she sobered up.

I was starting to get a good enough feel of Alice Cullen to not be _entirely_ surprised when she jumped subjects randomly like that.

"My boyfriend likes to read," I countered, not missing a beat.

_What?_

Her eyes widened a tiny bit and I bit my lip as I felt my cheeks heat slightly. I'm not sure why it came out of my mouth so naturally in an out-loud conversation. It was probably because my head was so far into pretending he was mine by this point, he had slipped into my subconscious and the whole thing was out of my control.

This happened once over the summer when I was making pretend escape plans to New York, to become the world's first professional Tambourinist. I accidentially told my mom that I was saving money for Del Sol, the bright yellow tambourine I'd fallen in love with in the obscure music store down the street from our houe. It slipped my mind that Renee knew nothing of my make-believe tambourine career while we were discussing how I was going to pay back my student loans. The questions that followed that particular slip up were colorful.

"Oh yeah?" Alice asked, as she zipped up her purse.

In those two, tiny words she sounded genuinely interested. She turned to me with a look on her face that told me she was one of those people that just loved hearing about this kind of thing.

So I decided to go with it. If she was going back across the country in 2 days then what could it hurt anyway? She'd likely never speak to Boyfriend and ask him about me. And after she left she'd probably never speak to _me _again either, so what would it matter if she did run into him tonight and find out I was living a fantasy life in my head? She could judge my insanity then, but I'd never have to hear about it.

"Yep. Not just anything either, he loves the classics. That's one of the reasons I love him. That and his hair."

I smiled wickedly at that comment, the picture of the wild mess popping up in my mind and teasing me with it's attractiveness.

"I love boy talk," Alice declared as she sat up on the counter. "I'm a hair girl too. I need something to hold on to, you know?"

We giggled together and high fived.

"What else do you love about him?" she sighed, dreamily.

"Well, he has tattoos, too. Which I clearly like. He's funny, but doesn't always have to be center of attention. He's a musician. He buys me cloves."

I shrugged and smiled, halting myself from spilling over the edge and tacking on details about how he kisses me slowly and traces patterns on my back at night.

Revealing make-believe intimate details to a friend I'll probably have for a total of 76 hours isn't exactly sane, and I still had s_ome_ hold on reality.

"Wow. That's great, Bella. I don't have anyone to love. Yet."

Little Alice swung her feet and looked down at her boots, still smiling but hiding her eyes from me.

"You'll find him," I convincingly said, sounding exactly as one did when they had found the love of their life and knew that everyone could. Because most people in love do sound like that.

"I know," she replied in her special tone.

It was another Alice fact.

"Is he here?" she asked as she picked up a piece of my hair and twisted it around in the light a little bit.

"Uh, yeah. Outside. He's been in the gazebo all night, I think. He's had a rough day. He wanted quiet. You may have seen him, um, he has the tattoos, full sleeves on his arms, like I said before. And sex hair. And, um, red converse."

I dropped my head a little bit, because I'm a terrible liar and discussing my pretend boyfriend was one thing, but actually acting like he was someone who she could physically walk outside to see, and touch, and speak to herself took it a little too far. Also, I could tell my rambling due to my lying was a little annoying.

Alice didn't say anything or look up from where she was examining my hair. Her elegant fingers that had been twisting my hair around stopped suddenly, but started again a second later, as if the hitch in her pattern had never happened.

"Can I meet him?" she asked, using the quiet tone again.

Crap.

I opened my mouth to respond but nothing came out because, geeze, what the heck was I supposed to say?

_"Oh sure, Alice, come on! I can't believe you haven't met him yet!"_

_Then we walk out to the back yard, I walk up to Gorgeous Stranger God, wrap my arm around him, kiss him for good measure, introduce him:_

_"Hey Pretend Boyfriend, this is my 76 Hour Friend, Alice. You're both going to think I'm crazy now, but it's ok because I _am_ crazy! That's right, I spent all summer isolating myself from my friends, so they have no idea I do this fun thing now where I pretend my life it totally different than it is. That's how you became my boyfriend, Sex Hair. Isn't that funny, Alice? I've_never _met this guy before, but he's so hott I couldn't resist dating him in my head all night, and then telling you that he really _is _my boyfriend. Aren't I fun?"  
_  
Yeah. Right.

"Nevermind, Bella, I have to get going anyway," she said suddenly, not looking up at me as she dropped my hair and jumped off the couter.

I breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that tonight someone upstairs seemed to be looking out for me. Apparently I wasn't going to ruin the shortest friendship of my life by getting being forced to admit to my Pretend Boyfriend Syndrome.

She continued to not look at me and it made me nervous for a second. Alice had been really personable thus far, and I found myself actually missing her friendly gaze. Suddenly I was sad about the fact I was likely never going to see her again.

"Alice, I'm sad we can't be friends for a longer amount of time."

Her wide eyes turned to me, finally, and for a second they looked guarded. Then a very caring look quickly took over and Alice reached her hand out to clasp my wrist for the third time that night.

"We'll always be friends, Bella. Even if I never see you again. We were meant to be connected, even if it's only for this one night, in this one bathroom. I don't know though... I feel like... I might...." she sighed heavily and pulled me in for a hug without finishing her sentence.  
She smelled of lilac and squeezed me tightly.

"You deserve happiness," she said into my shoulder.

Again the seemingly random comment surprised me, but again I found my self a little less surprised by it than before. She still sounded like she knew exactly what she was talking about.

"Thanks."

She started to walk out of the bathroom and I followed. As we neared the end of the hallway my steps slowed and my Alice induced lightness faded.

The _noise _was getting louder and louder as we approached the top of the stairs and I froze. I needed a second longer to be away from the familiar crowd to collect myself, along with my thoughts of The Boyfriend. I couldn't just waltz back down there and feel normal. It was still odd for me not to be by myself all the time after summer.

"I think I'm going to stay up here a bit longer. Text my boyfriend and, um, maybe leave soon as well. I have a head ache."

I rubbed my temple lightly, feeling bad about lying to Alice again, and hoping that even though the logic of my last sentence wasn't in order she would let it go.

"Ok. Good night, Bella. The room my purse was in had a comfy looking bed in it, if you want to lay down for a bit. You know, for the head ache."

I smiled at her offer and nodded as I pushed the door open and waved back at her before she started down the first step.

This room was one of Mike's 3 guest rooms. His condo was pretty large. He landed a job general managing the Seattle branch of his parent's store a few years back and now he was seemingly set for life. Apparently Newton's Outfitters was the place to go for all of your out door needs, and Mike was living great indoors because of it.

Alice didn't know me well enough to know I had spent the night in this room many times before. Before Emmett and Rosalie _really_ hooked up, emotionally as well as physically, her and I would share this room after parties. The big white bed _was_ as comfortable as it looked, but seeing as how I didn't really have a headache I didn't lay down in it.

I spent a few minutes sitting on the edge of it and checking my email on my phone. I took note that Pretend Boyfriend had not pretend texted me. I smiled at the thought of him anyway.

My mother had insisted on buying me an iPhone over the summer. Material things were made of love in her eyes, and I wasn't going to fight whichever way she chose to show affection.

I had a few emails from her, one from my father, and one from school reminding me of my schedule for the coming semester.

When I was in the middle of replying to Renee's numerous questions about whether or not her or Phil should get matching tattoos for their 2 year anniversary I heard movement in the hallway.

"Please do not let it be Rose and Emmett," I whispered to myself and to whomever was in the high heavens that had granted me mercy with Alice earlier.

Em and Rose normally used the larger guest room for their drunken love tumbles, but sometimes this one was more convenient for them to stumble into as it was closer to the top of the stairs.

The footsteps stopped right outside of my door, and I cringed prematurely, closing my eyes to prevent the scream I would have to emit if I saw any part of my 2 friends that were not Bella-friendly if and when they burst through the door.

No bursting happened however.

I tilted my head to the side in anticipation of my privacy being interrupted, but whomever had stopped outside of the door was no longer making any noise.

"You're sitting in the dark."

An unfamiliar voice spoke and I jumped a little bit, because they'd opened the door so quietly I hadn't even known they'd entered.

_They'd_ entered? No. _He'd _entered. The voice was distinctly male. Smooth, velvety, and masculine.

Unlike anything I'd ever heard before.

Though something about it was familiar... but not familiar in the way I wanted to run from... familiar in a way I wanted to run to.

"And you have your eyes closed."

He spoke in facts.

He was like Alice.

The familiarity I was feeling was the way his tone mirrored Alice. The way he spoke simple sentences with the conviction of them being absolute truth was comforting after my encounter with my new little friend, but something about the _feeling_ I had of him being in the room was unnerving and nothing like what Alice made me feel.

I heard the door click shut and I heard him take one step towards me, but I didn't open my eyes.

I think part of me knew who it was.

I know part of me knew who I wanted it to be.

But opening my eyes would ruin the possibility of what I wanted. Seeing the truth would kill whatever my mind could create him to be. Reality always ruined the fantasy. That was something I knew too well.

"Open your eyes, please."

I noted the way he said please. He chose not to command me to look at him, though we both probably knew I'd obey, and the warmth in his plea is what made me sacrifice what I had been holding onto.

"Sorry," I spoke when I opened my eyes and saw the magical gazebo God standing 4 feet away from me.

I felt the apology completely necessary, seeing as how when our eyes connected it felt _right_. It felt like I had been doing us both a disservice by keeping my eyes hidden away for so long after he'd entered the room.

He didn't reply. Didn't accept or deny my apology. Instead he smiled in a very crooked manner and took more steps towards me, turning slightly when he was about a foot away and sitting next to be on the edge of the bed.

It was almost difficult to be that close to him. Simply put, he was perfect to me and I was nervous. I couldn't even question how or why he ended up in this room with me, all I could do was look at him and try not to fall to his feet, or jump him, or search the house for handcuffs so I could bind us together with metal links.

"What's your name?" he asked softly, leaning into me slightly as he spoke.

"Bella. Isabella. But I like Bella."

He chuckled and I blushed.

"Me too. So far at least," he breathed.

Oh wow.

"Ok. What's your name?"

"Edward."

It fit him so well. I felt so proud of myself. I knew when I spotted him in the back yard that he couldn't be a Billy, or Jake, or Sam., or anything common.

_Edward._

"Do you know Mike?" I asked, needing to know the origin of this _Edward_ in my life.

"Mike? No. Not before tonight. I was invited by Emmett."

I nodded and was about to ask how he knew Emmett, but my words all left me when he reached over and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

"Your hair is radiant."

He leaned a bit closer but withdrew his hand the second the hair was in place, keeping our bodies from having any contact at all despite his leaning and my yearning for it.

The proper response probably would have been, "thank you". But I wasn't getting enough oxygen to my brain due to the way his eyes looked in the dim light, so instead I started laughing softly.

"What?" he asked with a smile in his eyes.

"_My_ hair... isn't... your hair is fantastic," I admitted.

He leaned back a little bit and chuckled as he ran a hand through it, taunting me with each luscious strand.

He watched me stare unabashedly at the motion and when his hand dropped my eyes met his and he smirked. He so knew what he was doing to me.

It was sort of scary.

I stood up suddenly then, breaking our gaze and the spell he had over me.

This was ridiculous. Pretend Boyfriend wasn't supposed to walk in here all real and dangerous. I had to get out. Pretending was safe. Real boys were not. I didn't go through my summer of isolation to throw it all away over a Hair God that decided to escape my imagination.

"Where are you going?" he asked with a little less control in his voice.

I felt him stand up behind me, and I stopped right in front of the door with my hand on the handle. Something about him being close to me was so different from anything else I'd felt before and I couldn't decide whether I should stay, face the danger and explore that difference, or if I should just open the damn door and run back to Phoenix, or Norway, or the moon.

"Stay," he whispered in my ear, breathing hot breath down my neck.

I shuddered and closed my eyes, knowing my decision had been made because he'd managed to close the distance between us before I could fight whatever strange pull his body had on mine.

I shook my head a little bit, kind of trying to fight how_ right_ I was starting to feel with him so close to me. My instinct for self-preservation wanted me gone from Edward's presence, but the second his hand closed over mine I knew the head shake was the last effort I could physically make to stop this.

His long, pale fingers snaked down mine and he pulled my hand off of the door knob and down to my side.

I wanted to protest when I felt his hand slipping from mine, but before I could figure out if that was terribly insane or not, the hand I had just lost was settling on my hip and turning me around to face him.

"Stay?" he asked this time, but his voice was more firm than when he whispered it just a moment before.

I saw the green of his eyes for the first time and melted. In them I found something extremely significant. He was giving me a choice. Still not commanding anything. I felt like Edward would always give me the choice, if he could.

"Of course," I responded. Because... _of course_ the choice had to be to stay with him.

"Bella," he said, smiling as my name rolled off of his lips as if he could say it just for fun in his spare time, "what's your favorite color?"

I felt my face scrunch in confusion and amusement as I laughed a little bit. His other hand came to rest on the other side of my hip and a little bit of the humor was replaced with desire.

"Um," I breathed, looking down from his eyes for a second to actually think, "usually it's something warm. Brown, or golden yellow..."

"But now?" he asked, understanding that many things had changed in a very short time.

"But now I see that green can be extremely warm as well," I responded as I reached a finger up and placed it gently on the outside edge of his left eye.

He smiled at me, unleashing the crooked stunning weapon as he leaned in a little bit closer to my face.

"I didn't know that brown could be so cheerful."

We smiled at each other, widely and brightly, and I forgot completely that I should be scared of this person effecting me so greatly.

His face turned serious and he took a small step closer to me, closing any of the small distance that had existed between our bodies.

"How do _you_ know Michael?" he asked as his hands started moving up and down my sides.

"Through Jess. She and I go to school together. With Rose. Rose is how I know Emmett," I revealed in broken sentences because, holy crow his hands were being so innocent and I still felt like I was being touched more intimately than ever, ever before.

"Where are you from?"

"Phoenix."

"But you live in Seattle now?'

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Change. School. Love."

"What?"

I had confused him with that last answer, clearly, but it was his fault! His hands were talking away that ability to complete thoughts and rendering me useless in his odd little question game.

"I needed a change, I found a cosmetology school I like here so I moved, and I had to leave my mother because she fell in love with a guy half her age and it was... weird... living with them."

"Ah, so you left because your mother fell in love with someone you don't approve of."

Ah, the first wrong fact of the night.

"No. Phil is the best thing for my mom. I'm glad she found him. I left because she deserves that sort of love, and I love her enough not to hinder that."

I shrugged to convey that it was no big deal, and his eyes narrowed a little bit as he looked intently at me, trying to figure out if I was covering up any feelings about all of this Renee and Phil business.

When he realized that I was telling the truth about everything I felt he nodded once and moved his hands to my elbows. The devilish smirk reappeared on his perfect lips and his hands started gliding slowly down my forearms.

"What's your favorite song?"

"What's with the Spanish Inquistion?"

His hands stopped at my wrists and his face changed due to his surprise of my disruption in the gentle flow of question and answer we'd had going.

"You don't like answering my questions?" he asked smoothly, erasing the surprise and taking control again.

"That's not it," I spoke, trying out the tone he and Alice were both so good at, the one that spoke truth and fact.

This weird r_ightness_ between us had to be mutual, and if it was, it had to be obvious that I had to qualms with speaking to him in any fashion.

"I know that's not it. I'm sorry. What is it, then?"

His head tilted to the side and his thumbs started rubbing small circles in my wrists where his hands had stopped.

"Why do you need to know so much so quickly? I think we have time. To learn these things about each other. I mean... it feels like we have some time... do you live here? Seattle?"

He nodded slowly and bent his head down further to mine, bringing his fantastic emerald eyes and copper hair closer to me than ever before.

"Yes, I live in Seattle, thank God," he chuckled softly as his hands slipped from my wrists and around my palms. I giggled a tiny bit as his fingers found mine and began dancing in and out of their hold. "And we do have time, I believe..." he breathed as his face came even closer and ducked to the side of my own.

I held my breath in anticipation of any sort of touch from his lips. A lot of my concentration was focused on our hands, where our fingers were slowly caressing each other. I felt him breathe in and, before I was completely ready for more of his skin touching me, his nose grazed the underside of my jaw.

"However, despite the time we may find ourselves with in the future," he murmured into my neck as I wrapped my hands around his lean hips and squeezed out of need, "I feel it necessary to get some facts out of you tonight... since I'm supposedly your _boyfriend _and all."

I stiffened on the spot, hating the blood that I knew was rushing to my cheeks and the fact that this perfect creature knew how insane I could really be. Suddenly I was second guessing everything I'd been feeling wiht him in this room. I second guessed the rightness of his touch, his words, his proximity.

He could be playing games with me. Even seemingly perfect boys did that. He couldn't be much different from what I learned in the past. He wasn't the perfect pretend person my mind tried to create earlier.

He moved his head from where it'd been settled into my neck, our hands had stilled in their movement, his breath wasn't warm against my skin anymore, and I was scared to death.

"You're Alice's brother," I breathed, hating that it was so true.

I thrust my eyes shut, trying desperately to stop the angry tears from spilling down my face. I took in one long, audible breath as I tried to remain calm and soak in what were sure to be my last seconds with this perfection touching me.

How could I have let this happen? It made perfect since now. Of course they were related, they both had a air about them that was unique, and so inviting to me. Something about the Cullens just made sense to me, and all the things my heart felt it needed. And that gave them control over me, in friendship, in whatever this attraction was I had for Edward. The very second either of them came into my life they had control. Control that I was not ready to willing give to anyone quite yet, but couldn't rein in apparently.

I felt his head pull even further away from me and I kept my eyes shut to more efficiently concentrate on every single one of his fingers gliding out of my own. Once the tenth one had lost all contact I sighed again and waited to feel his entire perfect presence leave me.

Instead I felt both of his warm hands on my cheeks. Then two smooth finger pads wiped gently under my closed eyes.

"Technically she's _my_ sister. I'm older. Is my relation to Alice going to be a problem for us?"

Upon their own free will my eyes shot open at his use of the word _us_.

"_Us_? There's an us? After I told your sister you are my pretend boyfriend? You don't want to commit me to a phsyce ward?"

I felt myself blush at my outright declaration of being crazy, but he'd already breached the subject himself so I suppose nothing really mattered at this point. Judging by the 2 letters he stuck together to make he and I into a single unit, I was starting to believe crazy was just up Edward Cullen's alley.

"Umm," he sort of chuckled, sort of hummed, "I guess I didn't mean to say that out loud. But, yes. If you are feeling what I am feeling then there is most definitely an _us_. Or, at least, there will be someday, since apparently right now we are simply p_retending_."

He smirked but kept his fingers running gently under my eyes. The soothing action of his fingers and the teasing look that overtook his mouth and eyes were very contradictory, and I was suddenly feeling far too overwhelmed.

"You don't think I'm crazy?"

_He just had to..._

"Not entirely."

"You weren't asking me all of those silly questions just to properly diagnose me with insanity?"

_He must have..._

"No, Bella," his voice caressed my name again, "I asked you all of those silly questions because I felt like I should know things about you. _You_ aren't crazy. The crazy thing is, even before you gave me any answers, I knew I liked you. A lot."

He slid his hands from my cheeks to my neck and the sensation of his skin moving over mine made me shiver. He pressed my body further against the door as he pressed further into me and bent his head down towards my neck again.

"Really?" I asked dumbly. The scent of him was overtaking everything in my world and it was so hard to think of anything outside of the honey sweetness of Edward's smell.

"Yes," he whispered right before his lips connected with the skin under my ear. My hands reacted the most violently, reaching out and twisting themselves into the back of his shirt. He did nothing but nuzzle the shell of my ear and chuckle darkly.

"Either that or I just find you incredibly attractive," he mumbled.

Now _that _made me laugh.

"Ok, Edward," it felt too good saying his name out loud, "this is... we have to figure something out. I don't believe-"

"You don't want me?" he cut in sharply, not letting me finish a thought or a movement.

He brought his head back into the real world and away from my neck and hair so that he could look me in the eye properly with a desperate sort of stare.

I pushed him back a little bit with my hands so that I could get some breathing room and have as rational a conversation as possible with him.

"I didn't say that," I replied firmly. "I just need some time to figure out if you're real."

I sighed as I ran a hand through my hair. I had to attempt to hold back amused laughter when he did the same thing and then smiled at me. This smile was different from any I'd seen on him yet. It wasn't crooked and alluring, or teasing and condescending. It was genuine. Cheerful. Almost innocent.

"Well I'm not _pretend_, Bella, despite what you may have believed previously."

"I know that. That was just something I do... it was stupid. I should have never told Alice anything. I know I owe you an explanation, but I just don't have the energy tonight, so it'd be great if we could just forget this whole.... _thing_."

I gestured back and forth between us with the hand that I hadn't kept knotted in my hair, hating that I was letting go of his shirt to do so, but knowing that if I didn't force myself to let go of him now, I never would.

_And clinging to boys wasn't smart,_ I reminded myself. No matter how tall, tattooed, and bronze haired they were.

"We're not forgetting anything," he said almost immediately, frowning at my hand and shaking his head frantically.

"I've never felt like this before. I don't want to forget it. I have no idea where you came from, or rather where you've been my whole life, but I've been waiting for you, Bella. I can feel it. This isn't every day shit, this in once in a life time true lo-"

"_Don't _say love!"

I interrupted him by holding up my hand and practically yelling my demand. He stopped mid word and stared at me with his mouth still forming the "o" sound, his eyes darting between my panicked expression and my still outstretched hand.

"Love frightens you?" he asked incredulously, as if love had never torn anyone to pieces before. As if the tiny four letter word didn't have the capability to destroy lives.

"Yes, it does. I believe in it. I believe I will have it again someday. But I do not allow it to be thrown around lightly. If you need to know anything about me, Edward, that's it."

His mouth finally closed and his eyes made one more stop at my hand before settling in finality on my brown ones.

"Well, I don't do '_lightly_' at all, Bella. If there's anything you need to know about _me_, that's mine."

I nodded a little bit and he took a small step closer, testing me. Our eyes were still locked and the tension in the air was thick. I felt so different in that moment, so alive. The familiar things going on just downstairs that I'd been longing so badly to be rid of felt terribly far away now, and "_be careful what you wish for_" was trying to take over my thoughts because this was the "all shook up" I was longing for my life to be, but it was scarier than I'd anticipated.

But most risk- worthy circumstances are a little bit scary. And nothing was going to cloud the Edward Cullen haze that had settled in my brain.

"Bella," he whispered suddenly, ending the silent tension in the room but raising everything else that existed between us. His voice was soft and smooth but his tone was desperate and rough.

I felt his fingers snaking their way up my still out stretched hand and as they became flush with mine his eyes asked permission to continue the action.

Swallowing my fear and praying that I would be strong enough to protect myself against Edward Cullen if need be, I nodded once and opened my fingers so that his could entwine with mine.

"What are we doing?" I asked in a whisper that matched his.

"We're pretending," he responded as he stared at our clasped hands and smirked.

I couldn't tell if he was mocking me, trying to make me feel like my crazy imagination wasn't a big deal by joking about it, or being dead serious because nothing between him and I could last in reality.

"I don't understand," I responded with a little bit of annoyance, in case he _was_ mocking me.

"We'll do it your way. Ignore reality for something stronger. _Pretend_ we don't feel what we do. It's necessary, for the time being."

_Pretend we don't feel what we do._

I wanted to throw my arms around his neck and tell him I was ready _now_. I wanted to give this amazing boy everything I had, because everything about him, even the mysterious, conceded, confusing aspects of him made more sense to me than anything or anyone else I had ever ecnountered.

But that fact that I wanted to do all of those things, to surrender to him so completely, was the exact reason I couldn't. Otherwise everything I'd been through with James was a waste.

"Pretending. I can do that," I confirmed with a nod, even though it was highly unnecessary considering my pretending was what got us into this mess in the first place.

He smiled and nodded back once.

"For how long?" I asked quitely.

"For now."

I narrowed my eyes at him and his vague response, and he chuckled huskily, moving our hands so he could kiss the back of mine. As he distracted me with that he took the chance to step closer, pushing me back against the door as tightly as he had before. He leaned back down towards the side of my face and sighed happily when my free hand automatically wrapped around his hip.

"For as long as you need, Bella."

"I'm not sure I can pretend I don't feel this for you if you're going to continue touching me," I sort of joked, making us both bitterly laugh.

I felt more than heard him sigh heavily, and the joking nature faded quickly as his serious side took over again.

"_We _can't be real until you believe that what we have here isn't going to hurt as much as it's just _right_. Nothing in life is painless, so I'm not going to stand here and make you some bullshit promise about not hurting you. So we can't do this thing correctly until the trust is built, until we both believe that, even when we will hurt eachother once in a while, there will always be something stronger between us to fix it. So we'll pretend we don't feel what we do right now. It's irrational and unexplainable anyway. We'll do it your way, ignoring our odd reality for something easier, until we are ready to take this, _us_, on together. Becuase when we finally are ready for eachother, in the way I believe we're meant to be together, there's going to be a lot of questions about how sudden and crazy we dive into it."

I had no choice but to absorb everything he said and understand completely. We were the only 2 people in the world who knew that ignoring this pull between us would be the biggest pretend we'd ever perform. But he was right, I needed time to do things correctly, the world needed a show of us working into a relationship properly, and everything had to be solid whenever we unleashed the hold on this insane emotional connection we had.

I sqeezed his hips a little tigher and nodded silently in submission of his plan of attack.

And that was the moment I got truly involved with Edward Cullen.

Coming to an agreement on how we were to proceed ignighted a fire in Edward. In what I assume was the moment he realized we wouldn't be touching very much for a while, something changed in him, bringing him closer my body in a more desperate fashion than before.

When he kissed my ear I trembled. When he kissed my neck I moaned quietly. When he kissed up my jaw and to the very corner of my mouth and then stopped... I grew impatient.

After a few moments of waiting, of running my hand up and down his long torso, holding his hand like he was the only thing I could really feel... after breathing him in and staring into his deep green eyes and preparing my lips for what was surely to be the best thing they would ever know, I gave in to the frustration of him not making his move.

"Why aren't you kissing me?" I almost whined, digging up the confidence I'd found in my summer solitude and alluding to the fact that we both know he wanted to kiss me very badly but wasn't.

"Because my kisses aren't pretend, Isabella. When you're ready for me to be real, I'll kiss you."

I glared at him, hating that he was making this decision for us, but hating more that it was perfect of him to wait for the fantasy to become reality, something I was never patient enough to do.

I was simultaneously hating and loving this boy more and more for being able to see things in me that no one else had. He was calling out my need to pretend, seeing it for what it was. A mask against reality. A way to create perfect scenarios in which I couldn't be hurt.

It was all a mechanism I'd constructed to keep me _safe._

But love was never safe. Not when it was real.

And Edward Cullen was not willing to pretend with love. With me. With_ us_.

"You'll really wait?" I asked.

"I'll wait."

"_For now_?"

"Forever."

I closed my eyes and tried not to cry, forcing back the urge to tell him that I wasn't worth it, that this thing we were feeling _could _be broken if he wanted to go out and fall in love with someone normal... not someone like me who would be fixed someday, but not today.

I couldn't form the words though. I couldn't tell him to run.

When I felt his finger ghost a trail over my lips I smiled and decided he was stuck with me, waiting, if he was stupid enough to want to.

"And I suppose I should warn you..." he said in a louder voice than either of us had used in a long time.

"What?"

"I've never been known to wait patiently."

The look in his eyes was dangerous and possessive, and I liked it more than I ever should have. I felt my eyes grow wide and I could do nothing but stare at him as he pulled all of his body parts away from mine, one by one.

I missed the contact desperately the instant it was lost, but he was still standing close to me, as I guessed he would be for however long it took for us to figure out _us_.

"Now," he said in a rather cheery voice, pulling me away from the door but dropping his hand from my arm the second I was far enough away, "let's go down to your friends and find out if we can gracefully pretend none of _that _ever happened."

He opened the door and stepped out, reaching behind me to close it once I silently exited as well.

As we walked down the stairs to the party a smile grew on my face.

Of three things I was absolutley certain:

1. Edward Cullen was meant to be in my life, in an odd, unexplainable sort of fate-related way.

2. He was not going to make his stay in my life easy, but there was nothing about him that I wanted to be easy.

And 3. Pretending he was my boyfriend was quite possible the best thing I had ever, ever done.

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**And, because it's always true:**

**LOVE YOUS!**


	2. My Hands Are Shaking

**A/N: Car's disclaimer: This isn't a fantasy story, but I warn you now that what B & E are feeling is. I believe that that's why it's become a story worth telling & reading. Reality gets so dull...**

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**CHAPTER 2 - My Hands Are Shaking**

_"My hands are shaking from carrying this torch,_

_From carrying this torch for you."_

- Sondre Lerche "My Hands are Shaking"

**Bella**

Sometimes I'm a mess.

I drop my keys constantly.  
My sunglasses fall off of my head.  
My earbuds always, always fall out of my ears.  
I trip over absolutely nothing.  
I spill my coffee.  
I blush uncontrollably.  
I drop my cell phone almost hourly.  
I knock over all of my uncapped water bottles.

Mostly I just laugh at myself because all of it is just so _me_.

I work pretty hard to keep it all together and appear that these things are fluke accidents, not every day occurrences for me. But they are. I genuinely enjoy who I am, but I strongly feel that being less clumsy would be nice, especially when I'm trying to appear put together to the outside world. Luckily I've gotten to a rather nice place in life where my flaws don't dissipate my happiness, they just annoy me. There was a time when I let this crap get to me. But I guess after you've been through what I've been through you learn to let the little things go. As Jessica always says: you "focus on the happy".

And I _am_ genuinely happy.

I've worked and laughed and loved hard in the small amount of time I've been in Seattle.

I once had to spend a lot of time convincing myself that my life was as happy as could be, and that being sad and afraid wasn't worth it. I worked extra hard every day after James decided he was finished with me, with us, convincing myself that everything I had after him was exactly what I needed. _All_ that I needed.

I had yet to learn that if anything truly was all that you needed, you probably didn't need to work _that_ hard to keep control over it.

I was quite comfortable in this way of life, keeping myself in control and balanced. Yes indeed, I was pretty swell at keeping the masquerade up for myself.

Until _him_.

I shook my head and stretched my arms up, feeling my body slowly wake up as I laid in my bed, trying very hard to just get up and get ready for the day and not be worried that another_ him_ was plaguing my life.

I showered and brewed some coffee, pretending that the green cup I'd started using every morning had nothing to do with _his _eyes.

I kicked my red converse out of the way as I lazily walked into the bathroom, pretending that I'd pulled them out from the back of my closet for the purpose of wearing them again, and not because they matched _his_.

I did my hair and hummed the song I'd had stuck in my head for two weeks now, pretending that I wasn't obsessed with that particular tune because it's what _he'd_ been humming the last time I saw him.

I was a fool for pretending, though. This wasn't one of the fun pretends I usually got caught up in, like the one that got me into this mess. This pretend was avoidance. Denial of the obvious.

I was semi-mini obsessed with Edward Cullen.

And I hadn't even seen him in two weeks, since the night I met him at Mike's.

Maybe the reason I still felt so attached to him and the perfect memory I had of spending what little time I did with him was because it'd been so long since I'd met someone who made me feel the things he did. After the ordeal with James I'd considered myself shut of from these types of feelings, convinced that no one could do more for me than my ex-love had.

That's how I got into my sloppy make-out ritual with Jacob Black. I was looking for that special feeling again, searching for it in someone who was more than willing to attempt to give it to me. He was my really good friend, which was nice because we were entirely comfortable together, but I knew from the start that he'd never be a great love of my life. No way. He was just Jake. Funny, edgy, kind to me, and just always there, which is why I always went back.

I sighed heavily and stared at myself in the mirror, contemplating just how crazy I was being.

You see, Jake was safe. That's why I allowed myself to get a little physical and emotional pleasure from him. He couldn't run away with my heart, or even speed it up dangerously without my consent. He could fulfill my need to be wanted, and he wasn't just a random creep. And despite the friend lines we blurred every so often, he didn't have any real control over me.

But Edward Cullen already did.

He coerced me into staying in that room with him, and let I him touch me, and kiss my skin, and I became attached. The thought of him both frightened me and gave me hope. Or, as things have gone over the course of the last 3 days or so, made me borderline enraged.

He literally told me he would be around to build trust, so that someday he could be so much more than a pretend figure in my head. He said he wanted to be _real_ for me.

And then he disappeared, life a puff of smoke. Like the opposite of what he said he would do. Like the love I'd been told I had before.

Like James.

I scowled at the coffee cup and the shoes that had been kicked across my room, one under my bed half way, one turned over next to my night stand.

I needed to pull myself together.

Who knows why we met 2 weeks ago and seemingly had such a strong, unexplainable connection in a frighteningly short amount of time? Perhaps Mr. Edward Cullen had been participating in some pretending of his own, at my expense.

Whatever the case, he was obviously lying then and uninterested now, and I had to focus on what that meant for me. He was just a guy who disappeared after feeding me a bunch of crap about waiting for me, and feeling unparalleled feelings... and I needed to get over him because I clearly was never going to see him again.

Ignoring the unpleasant lump in my stomach, since it would be entirely irrational and immature to cry over a boy I'd known for about 3 hours total, I dumped the coffee I suddenly had no desire to drink down the sink and threw the cup in after it, not worrying about touching or cleaning it at the moment.

If I reflected back on my behavior in the past 2 weeks, I had a bigger mess to clean up in myself.

We'd had 2 parties since that night. One was to celebrate Jess getting a new puppy (Mike drank a lot at that one) and one was just because Emmett was bored or something. Neither Edward or Alice showed at either. I wasn't surprised Alice was absent, she told me herself she had to go back to Chicago, but Edward was supposed to be a new resident in Seattle. I admit, I expected him to be at each party. I was royally disappointed.

I'd stayed a total of one hour at each party, then fled when I felt the guest count had peaked and no Cullens were in sight. I suddenly wasn't interested in much extra curricular activity that didn't have to do with the boy I was still foolishly dating in my head. Egging on the pretending dating thing probably wasn't the best way to stay unattached from the scary, beautiful boy that I couldn't even allow to get too close yet, I know. What can I say? It made me feel better since I wasn't hearing from him in real life. And then worse when the pretend contact I had with him in my head was the _only_ contact I had with him.

I finally got ready for my day and set out with a new determination. No more Edward swooning allowed for Bella. I learned the hard way with James: the quicker you move on and stop dwelling on the stupid boy, the quicker said stupid boy stops hurting you without even trying.

Things went back to normal _now_.

I'll go to lunch with Rosalie and tell her the whole story, purge it from my system, then get encouragement from the self proclaimed she-bitch herself to kick the memory of this guy to the curb.

Then I'll go to school and not think about bronze hair while I'm working on someone else's boring locks.

And then we'll all attend Mike's birthday party later tonight, where I will let Jacob Black kiss the Edward right out of me.

**xXx xXx xXx**

I walked through the familiar house, forgetting what_ he_ looked like standing in the glowing gazeebo or walking in front of me down the stairs to the main floor.

While I was busy forgetting the images of Edward I searched for Jacob, sipping the rum and coke handed to me by Rose, and did everything in my power to not think about what opposites he and Edward really were.

I found Jake in the living room playing Rockband with Emmett, Mike, and Jess. Jake always played bass, a fact I knew instantly and found comforting.

Predictable and safe. Bingo.

I sat down on the leather couch right behind him, slipping off my black flats before tucking my legs underneath me, then settled in and to watch the blues, reds, yellows, and greens of Boston's "More Than A Feeling" float across the TV screen.

Watching the colors was a good excuse for what my mind was really doing, anyway. Try as I might to fight it, I was really 2 weeks in the past, remembering how different it felt to have the tattooed, intense, presence of Edward next to me on this couch, after our agreement to "pretend we didn't feel what we did" and go hang out like normal people with the rest of the party.

I was staring a hole into the vacant spot on the smooth leather directly next to me, imagining jamming pencils into a certain pair of lying green eyes to ease my rage, when said spot suddenly got filled.

"I'm surprised you even came tonight," Jacob's deep tone quietly rang through my ear as he sat down beside to me.

I hadn't even noticed the song finished. Jake's dark brown T-shirt and jeans was my favorite outfit on him, it complimented his dark skin tone well, so I smiled at the familiarity of his clothing, and his warmth, and his voice.

Predictable. Safe. Bingo.

Two weeks ago I was running from all of the familiar things suffocating me. Now I welcomed it greedily because I was a scared little girl that stumbled directly into that she asked for, a challenge, and couldn't handle it.

I shook my head at myself then turned further into facing Jacob, forcing the strain of my thoughts out of my system in the second it took to find his eyes. His very dark brown eyes.

"I come to all of Mike's parties," I replied with a scoff, knowing he was using his previous statement to tease me about leaving so early during the last few get togethers.

"Barely," he laughed. "I hardly even got to say hi to you at the last one. You were here, looking hot as hell I might add, then the next minute I'm asking Rose where you are and she tells me you high tailed it out of here saying something about being tired."

"I was tired."

"It was like 9:30..."

"People can get tired early, Jake."

"It takes a lot to tire you, Bells."

I blushed at his tone. Sometimes when Jake and I are just bantering, being our comfortable selves, he slips in a comment like that, highlighting the blurriness of our friendship. It always makes me uncomfortable and him amused. I usually just turn pink and ignore it.

"I've been busy."

" Sure, sure. You've been distracted."

"I don't even know what you're talking about."

I shook my head and attempted to look unamused by his total wrong assesment of my dwindling presence. I don't think I was very convincing, though. I'm not a very good liar.

He was on to me. I was dangerously distracted by memories of pale skin, and soft lips on my neck area, and secret, false promises made in a dark room one floor up from where I was this sitting very minute...

"We haven't hung out in weeks," Jacob pointed out, breaking my traitorous train of thought.

I smirked and threw him a dirty look. Hung out, my ass.

"You mean we have _made_ out in weeks," I offered.

He had the decency to look offended.

"No, Bells, I meant _hang_ out. You know you make me laugh and we have good conversation and stuff. It's not my fault you're fucking hot and can't keep your hands off of me."

I rolled my eyes and he wiggled his eyebrows as he threw his arm around me, effectively bringing our bodies closer.

"You aren't going to play any more Rockband?" I asked.

"No way. I'm keeping an eye on you for the rest of the evening. Scratch that, I'm keeping a hand on you. You're not pulling any of your Houdini crap tonight. You're staying, and partying, and kissing me later."

I hit him on the chest, laughing at his abrasiveness, but I couldn't form words to argue with, even if it would just be in jest.

That's exactly what I came here for. Jacob. A distraction from my distraction.

Two Journey ballads and one Emmett-sang rendition of Paramore's "Crush, Crush, Crush" later Jacob was pulling me up by the hand, dragging me along to get refills on our drinks.

"You want to go outside. Have a smoke?" he asked, uncapping the Sailor Jerry rum before pulling my glass from my hand.

"Sounds good," I sighed, watching the dark liquid fill my cup.

I wasn't even going to pretend that Jerry wasn't being enlisted to help my mission of forgetfulness tonight.

He topped off my drink with a splash of Pepsi then grabbed himself another Heineken before reattaching himself to my hand and leading us outside.

I could hear Jess and Rose before I could see them as we walked the length of the house towards the backyard, and it brought a smile to my face. Rosalie was definitley not impressed with the new furry addition to Jess & Mike's makeshift family.

"Get that damn thing away from my purse. That's not his pee pot."

"He's not going to piss on your shit, Rosalie. Pancakes is just curious by nature."

"And I'm prone to throw him across the yard by nature."

Jake and I laughed together as we rounded the corner. Pancakes was doomed to a life a death threats from Rosalie.

We'd only gotten two steps into the backyard when Jake stopped me by the corner of the house and set our drinks on the ledge of the barbeque pit to keep the smoking away from the massive amount of people in the crowded backyard. Somewhere deep into the groups of people, back by the gazeebo it seemed, I could hear Mike singing Happy Birthday to himself. I was looking down, skillfully single handedly pulling out a clove from my pocket since my other was still tightly bound in Jacob's firm grip, when it happened.

"Stop throwing shit at him Rosalie! Why can't you love pancakes like everyone else?" I heard Jess complain.

"By everyone else you mean Edward, right? Because Cullen is the only other idiot I know that's kept liking that thing after more than 5 seconds of being in it's presence."

The clove was out of my hand and dropped on the floor, forgotten. I stood there in shock, snapping my head up to search the backyard for truth behind Rosalie's statement.

Jacob was laughing at my clumsiness as he bent down to retrieve what I dropped, but the sound barely registered in my ears as my eyes found their prize.

He _was_ here.

Edward Cullen.

In his red converse.

Every single fiber of my being tuned in to him, instantly. It was frightening how fast the very air around me seemed to change. I felt too many things at once as I watched him lift up Pancakes and throw him lightly in the air, much to the amusement of the six or so people crowded around him. He brought the dog back down to his chest and kissed it's head, smiling widely, churning my stomach with need because the sight of it was so damn alluring.

Relief, terror, excitement, and rage fought for dominance in my body. My free hand was literally shaking with the tension of the tornado going on inside of me.

What was he doing here, suddenly and unannounced, after two weeks of having disappeared?

I was practically in a trance as I watched him from across the patio. He was wearing a dark grey V-neck long sleeve shirt and black dickies with the red chucks. Instead of letting the tempting reddish locks free he had them pressed down under a black beanie. It was still insanely attractive. All I could think about was getting trapped in the guest room by him again, then thrusting that black fabric off of his head to reveal the wonderful mess underneath it.

Jacob cleared his throat loudly, extremely close to my ear. I jumped at the interruption of my ogling, then blinked and started taking a few short, much needed breaths.

"Where'd you go, Bells?" Jake asked accusingly.

"What?"

He chuckled bitterly, handing me an already lit clove and turning his attention to where I had been caught staring.

"Nothing. It just seemed like you got _distracted _for a second there."

His eyes hardened slightly as he continued to stare at Edward's silhouette, but I didn't turn to look as well. I kept my focus on Jacob, who was now silently glaring and dragging the life out of another one of my cloves.

My gaze fell to the ground in an attempt have a few moments to pull myself together. I could literally sense Edward's presence now that I knew he was here, close by, and nothing in me wanted to focus on anything else.

I looked up, unable to not be looking at him anymore, and felt a shock run through me when I was met with two green orbs staring directly back at me as if I had called his name across the lawn.

Try as I might, I couldn't force my shocked expression into anything else, any of the emotions I wanted to portray.

Edward was a picture of ease. In a gesture positively devoid of the shock I was still in, he rested Pancakes on his slip him and lifted one hand to casually wave at me. A soft smile played on his lips.

Right about then is when the rage got loose.

How could he be so casual about this? Did he honestly think a smile and a wave from across a crowded patio was equivalent of an, _"Oh, hi Bella. Let me give you the explanation I've owed you for the past 14 days regarding why exactly I got you all hot and bothered physically and emotionally, promised to be everything you needed, then hit the proverbial road to Who Knows Where for a fortnight. You see, I was hit by a bus on the way home the night I met you and have been in a coma for the past few weeks. I would have called you but I was too busy dreaming about your beauty in my unconscious state. I wrote you a poem while I was under. Do you want to hear it?"_

I felt my head starting to shake slightly, matching my hands. He obvious wasn't hurt at all, so the excuse was out. He wasn't with a different group of friends somewhere else in Seattle that he felt more comfortable with. And he clearly hadn't decided that maybe he just didn't want to move to here after all. He wasn't in any of the situations I'd made up as a reasonable excuse for him in my mind, a foolish reaction to my odd instinct to protect him, even from my own upset at him.

He was back here at Mike's house, my comfort zone, hanging out with my ditzy best friend's dog and at least three other big-haired, small shirted girls from my school. And he was smiling and waving at me as if I wasn't even worth avoiding after we shared what we did and then he mysteriously left me hanging.

He acknowledged the fact I obvously had rather large trust issues that night two weeks ago. He spoke the words, nearly against my skin, _"I've never felt like this before. I don't _want_ to forget it..."_

I tore my eyes away from Edward, angrily tossing a hand through my hair as I ignored his bogus wave. A brand new fire sparked inside of me as I replayed those exact words over and over again in my head, cursing myself for letting them and him get under my skin.

I took a long, hard drag from the clove. It didn't even taste good, the sweetness entirely trumped by the bitterness of Casual Edward was lingering inside of me. I didn't like loosing the sweetness I could always count on. I wasn't supposed to be bitter in taste or mood. Not over this. Not over him, who was supposed to be somewhere where he couldn't remember or effect me, not here waving at me like we were college buddies.

My reactions to Edward Cullen were too strong and too out of control. I recognized this, but I couldn't do anything about it. I didn't even really know him, yet I desired him more than anyone I'd ever met. And he had been here for God knows how long, hanging out in the backyard with fecking Pancakes, doing nothing but waving at me nonchalantly when our paths finally and accidentally did cross. And it _killed_ me that he was so blase towards me. I'd been obsessively remembering the feel of him pressed against me, and his breath on my neck, and his words in my ear every single day.

I was offically scared to death of him.

When I saw James for the first time after we broke up it was hard on me, of course. I threw something at him if I recall correctly, but it wasn't_ this_ volatile for me on the inside. James didn't give me this confusing roller coaster of emotions that I couldn't get a handle on. I truly loved him, yes. But it was sweet and pretty. Everything I felt for Edward so far was strong, and tenacious, and passionate, maybe even in an ugly way.

I crushed the cherry of my clove onto the ledge and threw the butt into a nearby ash try frantically, turning to Jake immediately after.

He was staring at me with a rather amused, sort of apprehensive expression. He lifted one brow at my sudden haste and licked his lips, probably gathering some of the sweetness left over from the clove he was now putting out.

I wanted to tell him to stop. I needed the sweetness to keep it's place on his lips. For me.

"Come on," I begged in a voice that held no choices.

I grabbed his hand and began walking back towards the inside of the house, ignoring the way I felt Edward's eyes on me as I pulled Jake back around the corner.

We stopped in the kitchen.

"Shots," I ordered, sliding two small glasses over to him.

He smirked at me, still sporting a knowing look in his eye, but saying nothing. Jake and I never went very far physically, I could never go _there_ with him, but he obviously understood I wasn't feeling sweet and slow tonight.

I poured two shots of Malibu and held one out to him as I lifted mine to my lips immediately.

"Mailu's like 2 percent alcohol, Bells," Jacob joked, degrading me with his eyes as he glanced down at the offered shot.

"It's sweet," was my quick answer, right before the candy liquid slid down my throat.

I lifted his higher, giving him the "do it now" eye. He laughed at me and downed the shot, tossing the glass into the sink right before I attacked.

I kissed him hard, just to have something else to feel besides the anger and confusion.

Jake responded immediately, pulling me backwards out of the kitchen as he pulled his lips away.

I followed him into Mike's study, the one where he kept a desk and a pool table and never did any work in, and shut the door.

As the door clicked into place I pushed Jacob into the small love seat nestled in the corner, straddling him as soon as his body met the seat. I was barely tipsy and acting like a desperate drunk.

_Please Jacob, please take away the threat of rejection and the picture of the boy who could possible kill me with it..._

"Hey, Bella, wait," Jacob sort of chuckled as I bent into him for more distraction.

"I thought you wanted to _hang out_," I said tightly, running my fingers down the back of his neck how I know he likes.

He chuckled again, then kissed me back when I pressed deeper into his chest and pushed my lips to his. Both of our breathing got heavier and I grew more and more frantic with each sigh and movement.

But it wasn't working.

He didn't taste sweet, at all. I still felt like my stomach was full of rocks. His hair was too long and polite. His mouth too familiar and void of the voice I wanted to be sighing my name.

"Shit," I sighed in defeat as I abruptly drew my face away from his.

I burried my face into his chest, hiding from him, and me, and the fact that I couldn't kiss my way out of Edward's weird influence over my emotions.

I felt his large hand run through my hair gently.

"Are you crying?" he asked gently.

"No."

Thank God. I was too confused, still, to cry. Too overwhelmed.

"Oh, good. It's just, your kind of shaking so I thought that maybe... You're sort of freaking out though, huh?"

"I think so. I don't know."

I slid off of his lap and landed next to him on the small couch, turned awkwardly sideways.

"What the hell happened?"

"Edward Cullen. Have you met him?"

"Cullen? I think so. Emmett's new friend?"

"Probably. He just moved here."

I let my head fall back into the couch and watched Jake as he thought more about "Emmett's new friend" AKA "The man who's single handedly destroying Bella's sanity".

"He told me my ink was cool, but he had like, a ton more than I do," Jake remembered, referring to the wolf tattoo he had on his right bicep and the tribal crap he had on his left hand.

"Yeah. You've met him."

"Briefly."

"Hmm."

It was silent for a moment or two. I grabbed one of Jacob's hands in both of mine and idly began playing with his fingers, to keep mine from the shaking they were still doing.

"So he's been the distraction?" Jake asked after he watched me move his fingers through the air a little bit.

"No. He's been a pain in the ass, lying, selfish, unpredictable, bother."

I refused to meet Jake's gaze, realizing I sounded like a love-sick, wronged child.

It took a second before he worked up a response.

"Well you're clearly not in the mood to _hang out_ tonight, so let's go back outside, yeah? I don't know what kind of stunt he pulled on you, but whatever it was, it was BS, Bella. Let's just go hang with all our friends. If he comes around and you want him gone, I'm on it. Come have fun."

He stood up and offered his hand to me, reinforcing the appeal of his plan with his sunshine smile. Jacob was always all about cheering me up. I probably didn't deserve him as a friend, or blurry friend, or whatever he was to me.

I smiled smally and nodded.

I still wanted to tear a cardboard box in half and smash a cement brick with a sledgehammer, but if Edward was going to be around more I was going to have to get used to keeping a nonchalant air around him as well, at least until I figured out how to get rid of his influence over my every feeling.

We made our way back outside and I purposefully kept my gaze away from any direction the dog's small yips came from. Jacob and I joined Rose, Mike, and Jess around the fire pit and I kept close to Jake, allowing myself to bask in his safeness once again.

Over the next hour I used Jake as my makeshift Novocain. Every time I felt a tingle on the back of my neck, or a tremor in my veins, or an intense sense of being scrutinized, I touched him in an effort to feel grounded again and to remind myself not to search out the intense green I knew to be somewhere in the vicinity, directed at me.

Around 10:30 Jess' dog fell roughly into her lap with a yelp, and a blur of black and gray flew around the corner.

I felt it more than I actually mentally processed what had happened.

Turning around in an unneeded act of double checking I scanned the entire back yard, looking for what I knew I wouldn't find.

No beanie. No red converse. No Edward.

The rocks in my guts grew heavier and I sunk down deeper into the large wicker chair I was sharing with Jacob. I sighed and shut my eyes, reminding myself that nothing was better when he was here, so feeling upset he'd left was just another notch on the Irrational Edward Related Feelings scoreboard.

I spent the rest of the evening in that way, actively trying to feel normal but coming up short. My friends around me went about business as usual, chatting and laughing, drinking and singing Mike Happy Birthday all 7 times he demanded it.

And as they all gathered their things to go home I kept close to Jake once more, telling him a story about Renee's horrible cooking adventures over the summer, pretending that I wasn't desperately holding onto the small amount of comfort I had started using him for.

**xXx xXx xXx**

I threw my purse down on the floor of my room and then myself next to it, but on the bed.

I felt like shit.

Walking home from Mike's was never a big deal, even in the rain, but tonight I barely made it.

How one singular near-stranger boy could make me act so impulsively, so out of character, was beyond me. And it exhausted me.

All I wanted to do was climb in bed and hide from what I felt.

I rushed through my nightly routine, brushing my teeth and throwing on the first tank and shorts I could find.

When I re-entered my room a shiver ran through me, which was odd because the heat was on and I'd been perfectly toasty in the bathroom just seconds before.

That's when I registered the open window that was letting all the offensive cold air into my room.

It took me about 2 seconds after puzzling over that to register Edward Cullen leaning against my bookcase with his black beanie, droopy eyes, and a slowly spreading crooked grin.

Like fire shot out of a cannon, emotions flooded my veins. There were too many at once to take stock of what exactly they all were, but they were all wild and barbaric.

I fought for containment and control in my posture and voice, not letting the rage or the thrill of him amazingly being here take precedence over the other.

"What are you doing in here?" I asked, allowing myself to sound offended at the thought of this gorgeous boy in_ my_ room.

"Do you have a towel?" he asked cooly as he reached up and scratched the back of his neck with his left hand, lifting his grey shirt and revealing a slice of tattoed hip.

Damnit. Being this close to him again, which wasn't even considered close if you measured in terms of our last private encounter, reminded my how very much I wanted to intimately know each mark of ink on his body.

"Here," I cautiously handed him the dark maroon towel draped over the squishy chair I kept in my room for reading sessions.

He reached out and took it from me, attempting to pull me closer in the second both of us held onto an end of the towel, like a surprise game of tug-o-war.

I dropped the towel immediately and I lifted my chin a fraction of an inch as I backed up the step he'd pulled me into.

Every nerve ending in my body was on edge, begging me to both maul him and keep my distance.

"What are you doing in here?" I asked, again attempting to go on the defense.

"I wanted to see you," he answered, rubbing the towel through his hair.

That made it crazier than before and brought my attention to how much darker it looked when wet.

"You already saw me at the party, Edward," I retorted with some venom in my voice. Perhaps _someone_ had forgotten how bizarre his disappearance and casual reappearance had been.

"Well I wanted to see you _more_, Bel-lah."

He spoke childishly, and in any other circumstance I probably would have found it slightly adorable that this alluring man could possess such playfulness. In this circumstance, however, it was simply annoying.

He dropped the towel onto the end of my bed and walked past me to examine the pictures hanging on my wall.

That's when I caught his smell. Tonight he was all rain, and spice, and the something sweet I'd been craving, and also something else I identified immediately.

"You smell like alcohol," I accused.

"You smell like berries. And cloves. And summertime."

His immediate and firm response caught me off guard.

I smelled like summertime? Come on.

"Oh my God, you're drunk."

"And I climbed that giant fucking tree," he responded victoriously, not turning to look at me but lifting his arm and gesturing towards the open window.

I had assumed he climbed the tree to get in through my 2nd story window, it was his only real option. The man at the door wouldn't have let a stranger into the building and I knew for a fact my front door had been locked and double locked. I was a police chief's daughter, I had habits.

His pride surrounding successfully breaking into my bedroom unannounced threw me over the edge, though. As very lovely as I had to admit it was to see Edward in my bedroom, I had some self preservation to do. And nothing about that mission included letting him have any more control over our... situation? Relationship? Whatever it was.

"You should leave, Edward. Now. This is rude. And weird."

"No way. I'm not going back out into the rain, it's cold as shit and going down is going to be ten times more slippery."

"You can use the door this time. Here, I'll open it for you."

I walked over to my bedroom door and pushed it even further open as I smiled sweetly and stepped aside to allow his exit.

"I'm not leaving, Bella. I want to be here, and you want me here. I can feel it."

He turned to look at me, taking his attention off of my collection of pictures of the people we'd both been hanging out with earlier in the evening. His eyes were dark underneath his untamed hair. He looked wild and beautiful.

And hell yes, _I felt_ _it_.

"Don't you remember how we have that?" he asked in a way that told me he didn't need an answer.

I stared back at him and felt my breathing pick up. He wasn't making any move to close the distance between us but I could feel myself wanting to be closer to him. Let him consume me.

Red warning flags went up everywhere.

_Do not let him control this. Do not let him control this..._

I decided to at least change the subject. I might not be strong enough to make him leave, but I could attempt to keep as far away from the danger zone of my odd stong attraction to him.

"How are you even still drunk anyway?" I scoffed, removing my hand from the door and putting it on my hip. "You left the party over two hours ago."

"You remember when I left the party? That's a good sign."

"You drink excessive amounts of alcohol alone? That's a bad sign."

He raised his eyebrows in amusement. I raised mine in impatience at his lack of response.

"I sit at the window and drink when I'm upset," he said unabashedly, offering no shrug of indifference or anything. It was just a fact.

"What did you drink?"

"Most people would ask what I was so upset about."

"I have no interest in that."

"I wish you would. I'm very interested in you."

I felt another wall of shock hit my body. He'd done it again, turned the tables on me, back around to what he liked to pretend was going on between us.

"You smell like tequila," I used as a diversion as I walked past him, stopping to sniff close to his mouth for just a second, for the benefit of teasing him a little bit. And some selfish benefits as well.

I continued walking to the other side of my bed and grabbed a hoodie from my closet since I was growing freezing cold and had no intention of closing the window, assuming he'd be using it or the door to exit promptly.

He watched me the entire time I moved, not reacting outwardly to how close I'd gotten to him to smell his breath at all. I took it as a good sign, though. He wasn't panting with lust, clearly, but he wasn't throwing a clever come back my way either, a sure sign that I had _some _effect on him.

When I popped my head through the hole in the large black hoodie and pulled the remaining fabric over my body my eyes met his. They were dark and entirely the same as before, except a bit closer. Edward had moved directly across from me, pressed against the other side of the bed. I felt exposed and enveloped by him all at the same time.

Neither of us moved because we couldn't or didn't want to, I'm not sure. I just know we didn't.

"It was some cheap shit I picked up at the liquor store down the street."

"The stuff you drank all by yourself?"

"Yes."

I nodded, not sure why him relenting to my previous request felt so good. It was stupid information I didn't need. But it concerned him, and I was beginning to understand this weird, new thing between us just enough to realize I wasn't strong enough to not be interested in everything about him.

"You shouldn't be here," I tried again, making myself say the words so I wouldn't continue to search his eys for things he surely wouldn't give me.

"You still want me to leave?"

He sounded amused.

"I didn't say that."

I felt him smile smugly.

"But that doesn't mean you should stay."

I began to pull down the covers of my bed in an effort to make it look like I was determined to sleep sometime soon. It was a ridiculous thought, really. I wasn't tired anymore, at all. Odds were that he would leave and I would sit up all night committing every color in his hair and eyes to memory. Or worry that he'd disappear again.

"How could I leave when I've so much more to learn about you?"

I looked up to find him and his voice farther away from me, rifling through things on my desk.

"Please don't touch my things."

Protective Bella was back. _Don't let him get comfortable._

"Why do you have a book about fungus? And this ugly doll head? Ewe..."

Edward dropped my old research book and picked up Marie, the female doll head I used for cosmo school.

"When I say, 'don't touch my things' what do you hear? 'Please feel free to pick up anything I own and insult it'?"

But he wasn't listening.

"Who's this, her boyfriend?" Edward chuckled, holding up the male doll head next to Marie.

I hadn't named the male head yet. Emmett wanted to name him Little E Head. Clearly I said no.

"That one doesn't have a name."

"Hmm. That implies that the _Mrs._ here does have a name."

I quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Isabella, Jr?" he guessed.

"I'm going to bed. Leave."

I climbed into the bed trying to make my point. He was drunk, yes, but he couldn't be rude enough to stay and play with my stuff if it would be keeping me up, could he?

"Stacy? Elizabeth? Mildred?"

He could.

"It's Marie. Leave."

"Marie?" he asked, bewildered by the simple name. "Why?"

"It's nearly one o'clock in the morning and you're_ really_ asking me about a doll head's name? After I've asked you to leave my room at least five times?"

"It's the tequila asking, baby. Humor me."

Tingles danced in me. He was drunk and annoying and called me "baby" and I liked it and _damn damn damn_!

"Marie is my middle name. It's not exciting, but I couldn't think of anything else for her."

He looked at me for a moment, then down at Marie, then to the male head.

"Isabella Marie, I would like to indroduce you to Anthony," he said, holding the male doll head towards me.

"Anthony?" I questioned.

"_My_ middle name."

I would have noticed him shrug this time, showing indifference instead of stating fact, but I was too busy thinking _Edward Anthony, Edward Anthony_ over and over again in my head and loving the way it sounded.

Edward held the male doll head out to me and made it do a little bow. I let a smile crack, because I was watching the most attractive man I'd ever encountered virtually play with dolls in my bedroom.

"Marie, Anthony. Anthony, Marie."

He introduced the dolls to each other next, making them bow politely. Anthony even kissed Marie's cheek.

"Now now, Anthony, don't come on too strong," Edward chided the male doll after the kiss. "If you overwhelm her on the first day you meet her she may freak out when you have to go back to Chicago for two weeks and then reappear at a party she's at when you're extremely anxious to spend more time with her. We can't have her running off on you like her mother did to me, can we?"

I sat up in bed, surprised by the direction his little game turned.

"I did not run off."

"Wrong-o. I watched you run off with the Indian."

He turned very serious though his words felt playfull. I watched him carefully set Marie and Anthony down. He began walking over to the bed slowly.

"You're crazy," I argued half-heartedly.

He was dead on.

Edward sat on the edge of my bed once he reached it, turning to cross his legs in front of him, facing me as I leaned against the wall.

"I don't like how close he kept to you all night," he nearly whispered. "Everytime he touched you I wanted to scream."

"That's why you left?"

"Which time? The party tonight, or before, right after we met?"

His words re-sparked anger through the wonderment I'd been clouded with during the past few minutes of being around him.

"I was originally referring to the party. But now that you mention it, it'd be really great to know where you went after you promised me... well, you know."

_I_ wasn't drunk and he was staring at me with a deep green gaze, so I wasn't able to be as forward as I maybe should have been when confronting him about his absence in my life lately. Dear Lord, I even felt myself blushing.

"I had to go back to Chicago for a few things," he sighed, suddenly turning into casual Edward again. He leaned back until he was laying all the way down on my bed, stretching his legs out towards my pillows. His shirt stretched up, revealing the pale skin and dark ink again, and I think my mouth may have actually watered. I liked the way his long form looked on top of my dark purple comforter. I liked the way he easily fit into this environment with me, and Marie, and Anthony. I watched the red converse settle in about 2 inches from where my head would rest when I eventually did get to fall asleep.

I pushed them off the bed.

"What the hell Bella?" he asked with a surprised laugh, half off the bed.

"Don't get comfortable."

My guard was up again, because I had started to like him being here too much and I needed to keep myself in control. He was still dangerous. Still Edward Cullen: the boy that made me feel too many things.

"Ok, ok, sorry."

He sounded so little when he apologized. He rearranged himself next to my bed, leaning on his knees and resting his chin on top of his hands on top of my bed. The position forced him to look up at me through his dark lashes, a sight I inwardly swooned at.

Great. Pushing him off the bed helped a whole lot.

"So you went back to Chicago for two weeks."

"Yes."

"To get a few things."

"Yes."

"And you didn't feel the need to get in touch with me? I know it's crazy because we'd just met, but it wasn't exactly a normal-"

"I wanted to talk to you everyday. The whole day, if I'd been allowed. But I couldn't."

Huh. Typical sounding boy-lie.

"For the record, I don't believe you at all," I warned. "But why didn't you contact me at all if that's what you wanted?"

He sighed heavily and rolled his eyes, his exaggerated drunk version of letting me know he thought I was being ridiculous.

"I didn't have your contact information," he said, emphasizing every syllable and sound.

"Bull. I wrote you my cell number on the pink post-it notes Jess threw at me. I gave it to you before we left Mike's house that night."

I remember it clearly because first I gave Edward a pink post-it that said "Make Emmett stop hogging the drums" (because he had been), and then I handed him one with my cell phone number on it, at Jess and Alice's insistence. Then Edward took the little pink papers from my hand, followed by the pen, and handed me one back that said "I don't have a cell phone".

"I lost it."

"You lost my number. Wow. That makes me feel _so _much better-"

"I'm a boy, Bella. I lose things. I'm sloppy and forgetful. Settle down. I was bummed when I couldn't find your info but I came back and found you, didn't I?" he yawned and his eyes grew a little bit heavier.

"Are you talking about the party? Because that hardly counts. The only reason I knew you were there is because I stumbled upon you playing with the dog in the backyard-"

"When you came out to smoke with the Indian boy, yes I remember," he grumbled, rubbing his eyes with his palms. "You're the one that disappeared after I waved at you. If one of us is crazy, or wrong, or whatever grily twist you're trying to throw on this whole thing, then it's you for doing _that_. For running off. With _him_."

His features grew dark again. He gazed up at me, sitting up straight now and looking into me with a sad, hurt expression.

"I was confused," I replied in a small voice under his hard sadness. "I was mad you disappeared after we met. And then you were just there, out of nowhere... and I freaked out."

"What did you let him do to you while you were in the house?" he asked quietly.

"What Jake and I do together is none of your business."

"So there's definitely Jake business for me to be jealous of?"

"You're jealous of Jake?"

"I've already disclosed my feelings for you, Bella. I don't understand them, and it doesn't make sense still, but I wasn't lying that night. God! Why can't you just trust what we feel?"

He began yelling and pulling his hair at the ends, again I assumed it to be an example of his drunk over-reactive state.

"Last time I trusted what I felt, I got thrown away by the only man I've ever loved. Sorry if I'm not jumping on that train again, with someone I have no real details about, who frightens me to death because I can't understand why I feel so strongly for him."

I wasn't yelling as he had, but my voice had grown strong and loud. He kept pulling his hair as he looked back at me.

"Who's the guy that ruined you for me?"

"James," I spoke clearly.

He sighed the name.

"James."

We sat in silence for a few moments as his hands fell from his hair and to his lap. He looked a little bit defeated, and yet a little determined. The determination was something I'd been seeing a lot lurking in the back of his eyes. Edward liked getting what he wanted.

"You drank cheap ass tequila alone at your window because of me?" I asked when I couldn't take the silence any longer. Or him just staring at me with that look.

He chuckled quietly and scratched his arm, directly on top of a dark red rose on his forearm.

"It was more specifically due to your constant close proximity to that- uh, to Jake, or whatever you called him."

He leaned back into the bed, resting his chin on his arms again. I scooted down the bed a bit and turned onto my side towards him, getting in a more comfortable position. My arms were sprawled out in front of me, about 4 inches away from Edward's. They didn't really tingle this time. It was more like a soft buzz.

He looked from our arms up to me and smiled.

Reluctantly I let myself like him being in my room just a little bit, and I returned it.

"Jake and I... we're not anything," I offered, hating that his heavy eyes tightened at the mention of Jake again.

"I certainly hope not."

"He's just always been there."

"But now I'm here."

An entirely different smile lit up his face. I swallowed hard and my mind started to swim.

He _was_ here. But he could leave, disappear for real, any time he wanted. Humans had the power and freedom to do that. I didn't want to be untrusting forever, but James had taught me lessons in naivety and impulsiveness. Edward's influence threw me way too close to both.

"Yes, you're here. I'm not sure what that means, though," I hedged, carefully.

"Me either, Bella. But I know it's real."

I nodded softly, not sure what to say to him that wouldn't make me look like a scared, hurt, little wronged woman.

"You still need to pretend though," he concluded quietly, reaching out towards my arm with one finger.

I stilled, completely focused on his one expenditure reaching out towards mine. My heart was racing and my mind clouded with anticipation of his touch. It felt like so so long since his skin was in contact with mine. Somewhere in the back of my mind I realized that it hadn't been_ that_ long and I hadn't ever touched _that_ much of his skin. This was another irrational reaction.

He traced one of the outside lines on the Eiffel Tower that reached up from my wrist to my forearm, and my insides exploded.

Want, need, brightness, overwhelming tingles - it all exploded at once inside of me, just from his finger tracing my skin.

I pulled my arm back so quickly his finger dropped onto my comforter.

"Please don't touch me."

"Why? What happened?" he asked.

The look in his eyes confirmed that he was probably the only other human being on the earth that knew _something_ had happened. We were the only two that understood that we couldn't understand this thing that we were creeping into.

"I just _felt_ a lot."

"Good or bad?"

"Good. Um, it was _too_ good I think... that's the problem," I stumbled through my explanation, still confused by it all but somehow not embarassed. "Didn't you feel anything?"

"Of course. I think being apart after we knew each other existed made it worse. Or better, depending on how you look at it."

He winked at me and my insides reacted to that, too.

This couldn't be healthy.

"Why didn't you pull away, or something? Like I did." I asked.

"Because I'm ready for it, Bella."

We sat still again, just looking at each other.

"What are we doing?" I asked carefully, knowing there was an endless array of things I could be asking him.

"Shit if I know. I'm taking this step by step, and not freaking out about it. I suggest you do the same."

He was speaking to me gently, but bluntly, which I appreciated.

"I can do that."

"Good."

"Just, don't touch me," I begged, still shaken from what I felt before.

"It was that bad?" he asked with a frown.

"It was that good," I clarified.

I really shouldn't have said that. He liked that statement far too much for either of our own good.

"Fine," he agreed, sounding rather smug. "No touching until you give the green light. I told you I would wait for you to be ready for everything we're going to be, and I will."

"Really?"

"We've had this conversation before. I'm not doing it again. I understand that not calling you why I was gone fucked with whatever we started, but I was 100 percent honest that night we met, and I'm being 100 percent honest now. You're going to learn to trust my words, Bella."

I sighed and nodded, unconvinced, but not totally devoid of hope that he could convince me someday. At least we were going slow and I could be as cautious as I needed.

"It's not just the tequila talking?"

He laughed at that, providing a musical sound that I instantly fell in love with. He offered no real answer to me, but I decided not to care. I was sort of enjoying just watching his finger trace odd lines on the top of my comforter as his tipsiness and my tiredness started bringing us to the same drowsy level.

"Your comforter smells like flowers," he said suddenly, making me giggle when he stuck his whole face in it and inhaled after he spoke, looking at me with a fun glint in his eye as he did so.

I still didn't know what to say to him when my low giggles died. So he spoke instead, saving me.

"Let me stay."

There was nothing but seriousness in his pleading look. I wasn't ready to match it. So I fell into old habits, pretending he meant far less than he did in his words.

"You want to have a sleepover, Edward?" I fake giggled this time.

He caught onto my diversion and after one more second of his pleading gaze he relented, smiling widely and sitting up as he ran a hand through his hair and looked around my room.

"Where should I crash?" he asked with the smile still holding on.

I laughed out loud, for real.

"Funny. It really is bed time, though, so which grand exit will it be, Cullen? The window or the front door?"

"I'm staying right here, Swan," he said as he stood up and pointed downward, referring to my apartment as "here".

"Uh, no you aren't."

"I already told you, I'm not going back out in that fucking cold rain."

He grabbed the thick zebra printed blanket off the top of my squishy arm chair and then curled up in it, stretching his legs out and onto the automan and spreading the animal print over his body.

"I'm still too drunk to climb a tree anyway," he voiced from his newly claimed spot on the chair, taunting me by pulling the blanket all the way up to his chin and smiling wickedly.

"That's odd, considering you weren't too drunk to climb_ up_ it."

"I had more incentive to get in than I do to get out."

I glared at him for a few moments, trying to figure out exactly why I wanted him to leave so badly when he was already here, hott and tattooed and kind of charming even when drunk, and funny, and so eager to stay even though he couldn't even touch me at all.

I came up short. If the crazy boy was ok with a platonic sleepover with this crazy girl, who was I to argue?

"Touche," I said, earning myself the wonderful crooked smile he reserved for his victories.

Then I reached over and turned off the light, letting Edward Cullen spend the night in my room, with my window, my heart, and my fear all perched wide open.

* * *

**A/N: There will not normally be long A/N's anywhere in these chaps, but I wanted to get this over with: **

**If you've read my other competed stories IWEIS & MMM then you've gotten used to me writing about a very different type of Bella & Edward than those that will appear in this story. I love my other B and E, but PDA B & E are going to have some OCCness going on. I'm going OCC with this one, b/c this Bella is actually a lot closer to my personal style, so it's fun to write about in a whole new way for me :) If some of my "regular" readers (oh man, I feel like a tool saying that) aren't interested, then I understand. Everyone's beautifully unique in their tastes and personalities, and blah blah blah. It's all good.**

**Anyway:**

**There's chapter 2! Hope it's going in a direction that suits you.**

**Give me your thoughts, I love them.**

**Thank you for reading :)**

**LOVE YOUS**

**-Car**


	3. New Soul

**CHAPTER 3 - Strange World**

_"See I'm a young soul in this very strange world_

_Hoping I could learn a bit 'bout what is true and fake_

_But why all this hate? Try to communicate_

_Finding trust and love is not always easy to make."_

- Yael Naim "New Soul"

**Edward**

I know what I'm doing, more or less.

Always.

I don't necessarily always have what you could call a "plan", but I'm good at making one up as I go.

And believe me, I go with the best of the best, at least the best of the best according to my book.

Fast. Hard. My way.

I go.

Because it's life, and it's meant to be _lived_, and I'm living it. I suppose that's just how my parents raised Alice and I.

To live.

I know what my life looks like to outsiders and I'm fully aware of how I act. I'm a smart guy. I don't have many close friends, ok _any_ close friends, because I choose not too. Friends ask questions, require commitment. I hadn't ever desired that before. Perhaps the caliber of people I was hanging out with previous to moving to Seattle was low. They weren't worth the effort. Who knows?

I've been content with Alice being my best friend for practically my entire life. She's the only person who's been able to handle me, all of me, just as I am. I love that, and I return it to her. That's how we've become so close over the years. I seriously give it about 2 weeks before she decides to move to Seattle with me. She's holding out moving right away, because I told her she would give in eventually and she likes to try to prive me wrong sometimes. But she'll be here. Like I said: two weeks. We've tried living apart before, and it just doesn't work for us. We've built a support system that we thrive on. She's a great little sister and accomplice, and nowhere near perfect. She's annoying, pushy, easily excitable, and a babbler at times, sure. But, hey. We all have our flaws.

And I like her being a major part of my world. She's got style, and I'm not just talking about her flare for everything fashion related.

In my world I'm King, and I like it.

I like my family, my car, my hair, my talent, my red shoes, my immaturity, my solitude, my attitude, my life.

Because it's all mine.

And I really like that.

It's always been enough to keep a smile on my face and a beat in my heart. My whole entire life has centered around pleasing _me_, and me only. I've never been a bad guy per-say. I don't hurt people intentionally or go out of my way to make things difficult. But I've probably become more selfish than most. And it's worked for me. Kept me happy, kept me 100 percent satisfied, without really trying that hard.

Until _her_.

Isabella Marie Swan.

Bella.

Bella Marie.

Bella Swan.

Bella Bella Bella Bella...

No matter how many different ways I threw around her name inside of my head, thrilled that I actually knew all of it now, I really only thought one thing:

Mine mine mine mine...

Yeah. We've covered the part where I'm probably too selfish.

I have been suffering from my worst bout of selfishness ever since the first second I laid eyes on Bella, a few weeks ago at Mike's party. It was like a giant bautiful brick that hit me in the head, informing me that I hadn't been truly happy until I knew she existed. It's weird and fairy tale-ish, but it's true.

I entered the party late that night two weeks ago, with Alice by my side as usual, since she insisted on helping me move. We were fighting about if we should unpack my CDs or my clothes first when we started in on the boxes the next day before our flight back to Chicago. When I greeted Emmett and his evil girlfriend, who Alice already knew, I was normal, everyday Edward.

Then we turned the corner, passing by the living room from the entry hall, and I became a very different Edward.

I'm not exactly sure why I came out of my thoughts and looked up when I did as we walked past the leather couches lined with the small Rockband audience. All I know is that when I did, I saw a stunning girl sitting on the larger ofthe two couches. She was laughing at a dark skinned kid with long hair and unknowingly changing my life. I still can't pinpoint what it was about her exactly that was so stunning. It just hit me. That brick of change. The Bella Brick.

I forced myself to keep walking by and tear my eyes away from every instantly tempting thing about her, because I was so confused and overwhelmed by what was hitting me. In a matter of seconds this girl I'd gotten one glimpse of was claiming me. At that time, in the moments following spotting her on that couch, I didn't even fully understand the reality of that.

But she had me. My attention and my desire.

I had to have her.

I'm used to beautiful girls catching my attention. They usually are doing it entirely on purpose, too. I attract girls, many girls, all the time. It's been that way since high school and if I take after my father's good aging genes, I probably will continue to attract them for years to come. Most people would not look at this as an issue.

Most people aren't me.

The majority of the female population is fun for a night or two, possibly a week or so, but never much more than that. They all bore me, eventually.

Maybe a lot of it has to do with my closeness to Alice, and how accustomed I am to her originality. I've learned over and over again that after a few days all girls become predictable. I've lived in a few different palces, bustling cities and rural countrysides both, and they've all turned out the same more or less. I don't use them for sex, I'm not like that at all. I've only ever made love to one woman, actually. I use them for company. To fill the minor voids of lonliness that even the most indepedant person can't escape. I use them for the small amount of time they have mystery or wit.

None of them caught my attention so strongly right off the bat like this new girl, this Bella creature that I happened upon at a random party. I don't even have any idea what she did to grab it, either.

I immediately set my new plan into motion, notifying Alice that her new duty of the night was to speak to this girl. Get information from her, become best friends with her, propose marriage on my behalf... anything along those lines. Alice, the closest thing I've ever had to a wingman since no guys have ever really been trustworthy enough, laughed, patted my arm, and said, "Ok, Edward," in the way that meant she'd do it, but she thought I was insane for my colossal immediate reaction.

Sometimes when I jump right into things I overwhelm others around me. They think I'm dramatic. I think I'm passionate.

Oh well. Fast. Hard. Go.

That's how I do life.

That's how I was going to do this new lovely mystery.

For the next small span of time I stood in the doorway of the living room silently, just watching her live. It probably looked creepy, but I couldn't really give a shit. I was too busy studying how she seemed to be hiding something from the rest of the room, a little freaked out that I felt like I understood the secrets in her facial reactions so well. I worked very hard to stop myself from smashing all of Newton's nicely framed pictures hanging on the wall next to me when the long haired boy ran a hand through her hair.

Naughty-naughty Indian boy. Mine.

I fled to the backyard when I got too close to making a scene about how beautiful her eyes were or how the Indian was about to get his hands ripped off. I had to refuse to play Rockband with Emmett repeatedly when I passed him on my way out, using truthful excuse, "I'm a _real_ musician, thank you very much".

I walked straight to the center of the gazeebo when I reached the outside, entranced by the bright, fantastic glow of the thousands of tiny lights strung there. I studied them to give my mind something else besides her to focus on, committing the sight to memory so I could transfer it to canvas accurately later on.

After what felt like a mere few minutes of being outside alone calming myself, Bella herself walked outside, breaking my solitude and forcing me to fiddle with the lighter in my pocket. I didn't look at her like I felt compelled to do but instead at the small black object in my hand. I toyed with it, trying to decide whether or not I should go over and offer her a light. Or rather, a second light because she'd surely already lit her clove. I smiled privately, imagining myself walking over to this mysterious woman and offering to light her already lit cigarette. She probably would have looked at me like I was batshit crazy. I probably would not have denied it.

I suffered through my indecision for a good five minutes while I leaned against a beam of the gazeebo, pretending that I didn't feel a crushing urge to consume the girl across the yard. None of it made any sense, and that's what triggered my hesitation. I don't do hesitation. I do jump in-balls to the wall. But hesitate I did because this was muy importante.

I knew that going over and talking her would result in one of two situations:

1. She really would be very sweet, and sort of funny, and perfectly good company for a night or two. We'd laugh, we'd smile, we'd kiss and touch. We'd maybe even pretend we could feel love for each other like so many people like to do. Then she'd end up like the rest of them. Boring and uneventful. Her deep brown hair would fade to mud as the spark in her fused out. And, unsurprisingly, she'd turn out to have no real opinions or personality.

2. She'd be just as enigmatic as she literally feels to be when I look at her. She'd be new and refreshing and unpredictable and mine. Everything I've never found before. Everything Alice was sad I've given up on.

I wasn't ready to face either of those results, honestly. Frightened is not something I'm very used to feeling, so I was allowing myself to really experience it. I knew I'd have to make a move tonight, she pulled me to her too much not to, but I needed to stall a bit longer.

I waited too long for my window of opportunity out on the lawn to remain open. She went back into the house so I set my newest strategy into action. I saught out Alice immediately and notified her that the moves had to be made now, by her, because I was uncharacteristaclly being a coward.

The rest is history, I suppose. Alice found Bella. And fate, or something related to it, trapped her alone in a dark room, waiting for me even though she had no idea that's exactly what she was doing.

After that night she was in my veins. Literally running through my bloodstream, pushing my life through me. And I couldn't imagine ever wanting her out. It felt good to me, having my every fiber centered on her. I'd been waiting for something like this my whole life, I realized. I was ready to jump in.

I can't pretend that I'm not pissed as hell that some d-bag guy apparently messed up her heart not too long ago. It's tragic, really, the amount of time he's forced me into when it comes to waiting for her.

Not that I'm not going to do it. I am. I have to. As much as she is mine, I am hers.

It doesn't mean I have to fucking like waiting.

I really don't.

It's kind of a new adventure, though. I've never really had to wait before. Never really had anything worth waiting for.

It was practically impossible to stay put in the unimaginably comfortable chair I'd claimed as my bed. I rubbed my eyes fully awake and then sat and stared at her sleeping form. Fighting my stronger wants, I did stay dutifully in my place. Because I promised Bella that I would respect whatever she needed of me, and I meant it. Even if I couldn't touch her everywhere or anywhere like it seemed vital to do.

I may be a selfish bastard, but I'm not insincere. That would be tasteless.

I marveled at the fact that I was even here, in her room, smiling widely at the thought. My two weeks in Chicago were brutal. I lost the damn pink thing she gave me with her number on it, and I nearly pulled all of my hair out when I couldn't find it. Alice had to woo me out of my brooding by taking me to a show at the Metro where I chilled out to the sounds of local musicians and buzzed, happy 20 somethings. I snapped out of it that night and _acted _like a real person again, for Alice's sake.

The charade kept up until the wonderful moment I caught sight of Bella at Mike's place again. I think my heart literally stopped when she finally came into the backyard. I raised my hand, surprised I could still communicate things from my brain to my limbs with a dysfunctional heart, and waved at her. Relief of her beautiful presence flood through me, as if my bones were breathing in fresh air.

Then she ran. Ran off with that foul Indian boy.

My insides had freaked out. It felt like my stomach was lassoing my kidneys with my small intestine. Wild imaginings of that boy touching _my _Bella overhauled my mind. I didn't _want_ to freak out. I didn't _want _to have these uncontrollable feelings for a girl I didn't even really know. But I clearly didn't have control over what I felt for her. I'd already accepted that.

So I let it happen, bore through it, and tried not to smash my new bff Pancakes into a wall when they re-emerged from the house, thankfully not looking sexed up but still touching the shit out of each other with their hands, and knees, and shoulders and.... and I just couldn't take it after a while so I left.

My mind raced as I ran the 3 blocks that separated Mike's condo from my apartment. I was afraid of the obvious: Maybe I was the only one willing to jump into this thing. Maybe while I was gone Bella realized she wasn't up to figuring out whatever the hell super natural thing we had between us, and how to deal with it. Maybe she'd chosen the easy way: Chief Black Hair.

I dug my feel into the pavement and screamed once or twice, confused or more so enraged, and handling even that extreme emotion in the only way I knew how.

All the way.

When I returned to my apartment (that I had recently found to be only a block away from Bella's, thank you drunk Newton) I gave into the sinking feeling of her chosing him.

It took a whole bottle of generic tequila for me to remember that we had no choices in this. She _couldn't _choose him. I sat at my window, staring out into the rain, letting the realization sink into me just as the alcohol was.

It was me. I was hers.

So I went to her, jubilant at my epiphany.

I climbed the large ass tree who's branches reached mercifully straight toward her bedroom window (minor stalking techniques were involved in my plan, yes). I grabbed and pulled at the tree drunkenly and determined, cursing it wrongfully seeing as how it was acting as my only alliance so far in this screwed up game.

I froze my ass off in the rain, and won my prize.

Time. With Bella.

I reached over and grabbed a notebook off of her cluttered desk and started ripped pages out, tired of waiting for her cute ass to wake up on her own.

I threw the first paper ball at her head, but I was still sleepy and my head hurt from the cheap crap I drowned in at my window the night before, so I missed.

I tried again, this time landing one in the wild nest of brown hair I liked entirely too much.

Number three was the winner, hitting her directly in the center of her right cheek.

She made a muffled noise of upset and then continued to lay there, all cute and alseep and not talking to me.

Her criminal behavior had to end.

Number four hit her on the forehead.

Her eyes started to flutter open and my heart started doing the same.

It sounds really lame, but I'd given up trying not to be a fruit about it. I reacted in rather large, strange, new ways to the girl. There was just no denying it. If this is what it felt like to find "the one" then, shit, I was all in. This wasn't all that bad, really. I actually found something in this great big world that made me giddy.

I was actually pretty excited over the whole thing, besides the part where she's so fucking fragile from that douche James who broke her heart.

I still had yet to hear the story of Douche James and the Heartbreak that ruined Edward Cullen's Game. I'm sure whenever I get the epic retelling I will be none too happy about this guy. I hope he moved far, far away. I'd like to break one of his limbs for everything he did that made that sad, detached, scared look shoot through Bella's eyes.

I threw one more paper ball, harder than the ones that came before it. It hit her on the forehead again, finally waking her up.

I was still sort of surprised at how much I liked her eyes. I'd never really cared about a girls eyes before.

"Morning, sunshine. My head hurts and I'm hungry. Get up and take care of me."

She blinked at me a few times, pretty damn adorably, and then looked around her paper ball ridden bed. I watched with glee as the fire swept up into her eyes. Riled up was quite the sight, let me tell you. She got all passionate and sarcastic. I loved it.

"Were you throwing things at me?" she asked incredulously, holding up one of my paper cannons.

"Your chair is so comfy and I'm not allowed to touch you. How else was I supposed to wake you?"

"You _weren't _supposed to," she replied, narrowing her eyes before turning her face into her pillow.

No-no Bella Swan. Don't hide your pretty face from me. It's mine.

I balled up another paper ball and chucked it across the room, hitting her in the back of the head.

"Go home," she mumbled into her pillow, unconvincinly.

"Make me breakfast," I responded, just wanting her to turn around and look at me again.

She turned her head from her pillow and snarled at me, making me smile widely.

"How do you even know I can cook?"

"Uh, I don't. I'm fine with cereal, though. Or a cheeseburger, or chicken parmesean, or scrambled eggs. I'm hungry and I need something in my belly to soak up all that damn tequila you made me drink last night. But it's not really about the food. I just want to have breakfast with you."

I watched the emotions fight for dominance in her eyes. She ventured from agner to annoyance and finally into approval, I'm assuming over my honest desire in the company I ate with, not the content.

"I'm a damn good cook, you lucky bastard," she grumbled with an amused, secret smile as she rolled out of bed.

She threw a paper ball at me, which I caught, then turned and walked out her bedroom door.

**xXx xXx xXx**

Turns out my lady cooks like a pro.

I made embarassingly loud satisfied sounds as I ate the stuffed french toast she whipped up. We were sitting at her extremely small two seater dining room table, which had it's pros and cons. It was nice because I felt close to her, but was also not so nice becuase it was incredibly hard not to reach across the table and take her hand or rest my knees against hers under the table.

I finished eating before her and took up my new favorite hobby of staring at her. Of course I liked it because she was so originally appealing, but most of my pleasure in the activity came from the fact that it made her squirm.

"You're staring at me again."

"I know. It's fun."

"How is staring fun? You are so odd, Edward."

"Do you like saying my name as much as I like saying yours?" I wondered out loud, since I thought it in my drunk state the night before but had forgotten to ask.

"It's really annoying when you do that, by the way."

"Do what?"

"You ignore the question I ask and just ask one of your own instead, completely changing the subject."

"I have to ask things before I forget them."

"It's annoying."

"It's fine, Bella," I laughed, rolling my eyes. She'd get used to it. I could already tell she wasn't very annoyed by it at all, just perplexed. This girl did not like being out of control very often. "So, do you?"

"I forgot the question," she huffed, pretending to be bothered by me.

"Do you like saying my name as much as I like saying yours?"

That flustered her. A fun rose color lit up her cheeks and reminded me of cupcakes for some reason. Always having to be difficult, she deflected the question.

"What kind of a questio-"

"I'm always honest with you, _Bella_. And I'm never afraid of what I sound like. Just answer my question."

She took a bite of her food as she glared at me for calling her out. Then she sighed, smiled, and said, "Yes, Edward. I love saying your name."

Finally. The smallest of specs of trust.

"I thought so. You said it over and over again in your sleep last night."

She shrugged a little bit and took another bite, surprising my with her lack of embarassment. I thought for sure my teasing would arouse fiestyness in her again. This girl was so odd. Some simple things were so hard for her to admit, others she brushed off as the minor details they were.

Still, I couldn't hid the prideful smile I wore. It was _my_ name she thought of as she dreampt. Not and Indian name or some lame pretty boy from movies or TV.

Mine.

"So, what do you do?" she asked me curiously after finishing her last bite.

"For pleasure, or work, or what?"

"Both. Start with work though."

"I just got a job teaching an art class at the community college."

"You draw?"

"Yes, but I'm more inclined to painting, which is what I'm teaching."

She nodded a little bit and it was then that I noticed the red in her hair from the sun shining in through the window. It was pretty. I wanted to paint it. Embody it. Touch it.

"What's your pleasure, Edward?" she asked next, continuing the questioning and taunting me by making her lips a little more pouty than they were before. Or perhaps my imagination did that. I can never be sure.

"I used to enjoy writing, playing, and listening to music more than anything. Or reading. Or, well, painting I guess."

"Or drinking alone at your window?" she smirked.

"No," I defended. She was either teasing me or still completely unaware of the trauma I went through over her last night. "That's only something I do when I'm devestated."

She did this cute little disbeliving snort that made me laugh, then shook her head a little bit and dipped her finger in the syrup still pooled on her plate. I watched it with great interest, knowing it's next stop would be her mouth.

"So what is your favorite past time now? You said those things_ used_ to be your pleasures."

Sure enough the finger went in the mouth. She was being playful but something inside of me felt very serious.

"Uh, yeah. They got replaced. That would be your fault," I said with a bitter laugh, grabbing the plate from in front of her as I stood and took both of our plates to the sink, needing an excuse to move and have something to do besides watch her.

"I haven't taken away your iPod or your paintbrush," she laughed.

"No, but you're far more intriquing than anything I've ever known."

My words were so serious we both had to stop living for a second and just absorb each other. Our eyes locked, and for a moment I begged her heart to be better for me, to trust me, to let me in so that the pretending could stop.

Her eyes broke away, and she smiled softly but her answer was clear. It was what she'd already been telling me in the short time this _thing_ took us over. She just wasn't ready.

"Well lucky for me, I don't have many hobbies for you to distract me from."

Her words were spoken low and I almost didn't catch all of them, but because I did, I smiled victoriously.

"Good luck with that. I'm a fun hobby to take up, but I'm a bad habit to kick, Swan."

She rolled her eyes and it was all right with me because they were happy looking and her damn tank top was riding up so that distracted me from being annoyed at her not taking my statement seriously.

"I already have some bad habits, so you don't frighten me."

"That's funny," I laughed bitterly. "I was under the impression that you were absolutely terrified of me. Or at least, what I might come to mean to you."

She sort of glared at me, then relented because I was speaking the fucking truth and we both knew it.

"You _are _scary, Edward. You came out of nowhere, and I don't understand anything about why I feel so strongly towards you, and last time I felt even half as drawn to someone as this-"

"James fucked everything up, I know," I sighed, sick of hearing his damn name already.

"Right. Well I can't help that my trust was shot to hell. It's not like you make it very easy to bounce back."

"Excuse me? I climbed in your window during that death storm last night, desperate for some Bella time. I think it's pretty damn clear that I want to be in your life."

"First of all, you need to stop being so dramatic about everything. The rainfall last night was not that bad. And it's not a question of whether or not you want to be here now, it's a question of whether or not you'll want to stay."

"You're the one that keeps telling me to leave."

"It's a defense mechanism," she said very very quietly.

"I know. That's why I haven't left yet."

I paused for dramatic effect.

It worked. My words were hanging in the air, and that was fine and dandy because they were serving a purpose, but I broke the silence after a few beats because I had more important thigns to discover.

"What else about me scares you, Bella? Aside from the fact that I have two legs that can, but won't, carry me away from you someday."

I observed the disbelief and mistrust fight inside of her as she breathed deeply then gathered a response for me.

"You're definitley too attractive to trust," she began, making me laugh. Out loud.

"That's a shit response, Swan. I can't help how yummy I am."

"Oh my God. I knew I shouldn't have used that one..."

"What else?" I pushed, still laughing at her bogus reason and feeling pleased as hell that she probably wanted to touch the shit out of me despite her inability to handle her body's physical reaction to our connection.

"How many girlfriends have you had?" she asked seriously, surprising me.

"Uh, none," I responed as I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling kind of awkward at the unexpected question.

"And why is that? Haven't you been attracted to any other women before? Have you never shown a girl a good time, Edward?" she kept asking questions, all cute and sure of herself and looking like she could hear my answers before I even knew them.

"I've shown girls some pretty great times," I admitted since I promised to be honestly with her, always, and I wasn't exactly ashamed of myself.

"But none of them have been someone you'd call a girlfriend?"

"Nope."

"Uh-huh."

And just like that she was smug and thought she was right, and I had no idea what the hell she was being smug or right about.

"Nah-uh. None of that girl code bullshit is allowed in our conversations," I demanded, actually wagging my finger at her. She was still smiling. "What are you 'uh-huhing'? I didn't say anything incriminating!"

"You've never had a relationship, but you've had plenty of experience with girls. It's scary, Edward. You're like the poster child of a, for lack of a better term, bad boy. I do not need to spell out why, you seem pretty intelligent."

She was still all smug, and it suited her, I have to say.

My left eye was twitching in agitation, though.

I almost argued with her. I did.

Then I really thought about it. And I guess all the peices were in place.

"Just because you're right doesn't mean I can't be different for you," I concluded, keeping the truth thing alive.

She looked truly frightened now, I'm guessing due to the fact that I wasn't even attempting to dispute her little accusation of my "bad boy" status.

"We'll see I guess."

I sighed and she looked sad. Then I got over that shit pretty quickly and wrote B + E with my finger in the syrup just to see how it looked and showed it to her.

She didn't really stop smiling after that.

We did the dishes together, kind of. She rinsed and washed. I whined about drying and flicked the towel at her bare legs until she stopped giggling and kicking at me and just took the thing herself and dried the plates.

I put the two plates away, onto the highest shelf that she wouldn't be able to reach on her own.

Sometimes I like to ensure people still need me.

"I have some stuff to do today, so I'm going to go get ready," she announced after she finished whining about my plate scheme.

"What are we doing today?"

_"Rosalie_ and I are going shopping for halloween costumes, then having dinner with Jess."

"Tell them you'd rather hang out with me."

"That's rude, I'm not doing that."

"You guys see each other all the time, though. You and I have so much catching up to do."

I raised my eyebrows and gave her a "you know I'm right" look that normally works wonders. She didn't buy it. She's too damn nice for that kind of ditch-your-friends-for-me thing. We can work on that.

"I can't, Edward. They changed their schedules for me, specifically, because they... uh... wanted to cheer me up."

"Are you sad?" I asked, knowing she couldn't be with the way things were going between us.

"Not anymore."

"But you were."

"Yes."

"Because of me? Because I left and didn't tell you?"

"Yes."

"But you're happy now."

"I'm still going to dinner with them, Edward."

"Whatever. I know you are. Just tell me that you're happy now."

She turned to me and put her hands on her hips, but she didn't look upset at all.

"Yes. I'm very happy now."

"Because of me, right?"

She threw a pillow at me (I'd followed her into her bedroom again) and didn't reply. Because she _was _happy now thanks to me.

"Did you hear that Marie? Anthony?" I asked the doll heads that honestly still kind of disturbed me. "I make Bella happy."

I turned from the dolls to Bella, making sure she saw the giant fucking smile I wore soley for her benefit.

"Right now you're dangerously close to making Bella late," she warned.

She was talking to me as she gathered some things from around her room. It was so damn clean in here, unlike my room. I wasn't dirty, but I was cluttered, so it was nice to have open space to watch her move around in. Though thinking about that only made me want to watch her not move around in my cluttered space.

I popped my feet up on my newly claimed automan and yawned because the tequila overdose was still messing with my alertness.

Mid-yawn my feet got shoved off of their resting place.

"I'm taking a shower. Go home."

Well, that was cruel, was it not? I blinked a few times, ridding my head of the images of her skin soaking up water droplets.

"I don't think you're giving me very much motivation to leave."

I shot her another smirk, going for gold this time by giving her my pleading eyes.

The girl was made of stone sometimes.

"Leave or I'll kiss jake in front of you next time we're at Mike's."

"Ha. I call a bluff. You aren't going to do shit with the Indian kid anymore."

"Never say never, Edward."

"Your lips are mine, Bella."

Sometimes I take things too far.

This was one of those times.

She stilled completely and just stared at me with this look I'd never really seen before. She didn't look completely pissed, but I wouldn't call her expression pleased either. I'm pretty sure part of her liked my words, though. If she'd claim any part of me as hers I'd be doing fecking sumersualts all over her comfortable looking bed.

Still, perhaps my tone was a tad more serious than it could have been, considering we were supposed to be pretending we weren't freakishly obsessed with each other.

"Go home, Edward. I'll see you later."

She made a quick exit of the room and left me sitting there, at a loss. Girls are always so exciting in the beginning.

I pulled my beanie out of my pocket and stuck it back on as I began praying that the outside world wasn't too terribly fucking cold today. At least the rain had stopped. I stood up to leave, not wanting to push little Bella's fragile boundaries. I also needed a shower pretty badly myself. My slept in, rain soaked clothes were probably less than attractive.

I walked to the window and shut it. No need to take the death trap tree when front doors were available today.

Before I walked out the front door I put my red shoes in a line with her small ones that I had noticed strewn acorss the hard wood floor sometime the night before. I didn't mind being barefoot, and I thought it was sort of cute how we had matching shoes, even though I wasn't certain she wore hers as much as I lived in mine.

The four converse were neatly lined up; 2 very small ones then 2 very large ones. I was just wanting to leave something of mine in her space, just so she would get out of the shower, then come home later, then wake up tomorrow and see part of me there, with her. We weren't taking anymore steps backwards, that was my goal. I learned my damn lesson about leaving. Now she'd have to struggle to get me _out _of her life.

Before I left the room I turned back to the row of shoes and felt satisfied. Then I almost gagged at what this girl was doing to me.

**xXx xXx xXx**

After I showered and played the piano for a bit, getting a tune out of me that reminded me of the curve of Bella's hips, I grew bored.

I wondered breifly if I could track her down, stalk her a little bit as she hung out with Emmett's devil woman and Jess. I finally came to the conclusion that maybe the man Bella needed didn't stalk women. Maybe he was better than that. Maybe he was an all around good guy.

I could probably be good. For a while.

I sighed and fussed with my hair a bit. I really did want to be good for her, not just to trick her into trusting a good version of me. I had this overwhelming urge to go find her, though. Like being separated was making my insides fall apart.

Thinking about it was a bitch.

After deciding that I was not in the mood to debate whether or not stalking Bella would fall under the "good boy" category, I got up to go out and grab some food to distract myself with.

On my way back to my apartment, while singing loudly to The Rolling Stones and drvinging slightly over the speed limit thanks to my excitement over the chinese food that was filling my precious volvo with it's delicious aroma, I encountered a jackass in an El Camino.

The idiot was tailgating me, pissing me off something fierce.

Eventually Mr. In a Huge Fucking Hurry whipped around me, illegally, and annoyingly slowed down once he was happily coasting in front of me.

Everything would have been fine after that. He can be a jackass, that's great. We'd eventually be done driving on the same road and he could go back to pissing the general driving public off. But then he put my car in danger.

Out of nowhere the El Camino's breaks slammed on, nearly forcing me to careen into the back of his car. Luckily I just tapped the back of it, most likely not doing any damage to either vehicle, but seriously putting my heart's health in danger.

Jackass Major pulled over like a smart boy. We don't need any high speed chases occurring while I'm trying to be on my best behavior for the lady. I pulled over behind the black and white El Camino and took two deep breaths before opening my door and stepping out.

The other guy was already out of his car, leaning against his door and smirking at me. That needed to end.

"Hey man, you almost scratched my car," Jackass had the nerve to say as he gestured towards the back of the Jackass Mobile.

He was either completely legit, or a complete tool. He had longish blonde hair that kind of curled and didn't look much more tamable than the mess on my head which I was currently pulling at. He wore aviators and a leather jacket. Cowboy boots. Ripped jeans. Smelled of pot.

I decided to hold off on punching him in the mouth like he deserved. We could be on to something good here.

"I'm sorry, Jackass. It seems I didn't notice how close I almost came to hitting your car. I was too busy trying to keep Lola a safe distance away from your manic driving."

"What's a Lola?" he asked with a clear mixture of intrique and confusion.

"Lola is my car. That's neither here nor there, though. What's wrong with you? Why the hell did you stop like that, Jackass?"

I still wasn't hitting him, but the agitation sure hadn't left the building.

"My name isn't Jackass, man. It's Jasper. Whitlock. And, Lola? Really? That's a bitch name, brother."

He cocked one cocky eyebrow at me and then shot a judgemental look over towards my lovely silver Lola. Then he smirked, making me pretty damn sure he was making fun of my car in his head.

I was thrown.

This guy just didn't care about anything he said or did. Like me.

And he smirked at secret things, probably a device he perfected once he figured out that ladies always want to know any and all secrets, especially ones related to smirks. Like me.

He would make a good wingman, I realized instantly. And not an Alice wing man... you know, one that's there just because you have no one else to do your dirty work. This guy was potentially my counterpart, but far more chilled out than I ever seemed to be.

Did Bella-persuing guys have wingmen?

I'd only use him on her. That wouldn't be against any "good guy" rules, would it?

I pondered this for a second as Jasper the Jackass pulled a joint out of his pocket and lit up, right in the middle of our minor one-sided throw down.

Maybe he was just a Crazy. Maybe I should just get him good and pissed and then hit the road and get back to the delicious oriental goodness that was probably growing cold in my passenger seat.

"First of all, Jasper, I'm not your brother-"

"Do you have a sister?"

Bella's right. That random question things is fucking annoying.

"Yeah, Alice. But she doesn't have anything do with this," I replied, letting him know I was annoyed.

"Alice," he spoke slowly, smiling darkly and making my fist pretty ready to meet his face. "Is she hot?"

"Gross," I spat, not wanting to ever, ever assess the hotness of my sister.

"So... yes, then?" he asked, smirking again.

"Why are you even asking me this?"

"You said we weren't brothers. I'm just trying to figure out if we could be."

Oh my nausea.

"Are you honestly inquiring about getting together with my baby sister?"

He was bold, which I respected. I wasn't one to beat around the bush either.

I couldn't make up my mind about this guy.

Jackass or wingman? Jackass or wingman?

"I most definitely am inquiring about the hotness of your little sister," he replied while blowing out a long puff of smoke. It smelt good. I quit pot a while ago, it makes me paranoid-ish and dramatic even in my standards, but I was around it a lot and was weird enough to find it comforting.

I wondered at Bella's feelings about pot. Then I missed looking at her lips.

"Unless she's not too easy on the eyes," Jasper continued, breaking me of my Bella distraction, "I'm not a shallow son of a bitch, but I know what I like. There are somethings a man just can't compromise on, you know man? That's mine. I like them spicy."

He laughed a detached stoner laugh for a second and then nodded a little bit, amusing both of us in different ways with his words.

Just as I was about to lay into this guy about my sister being better than a pot-smoking death-race driving hipster, the impossible happened.

He unzipped his jacket and revealed a Muddy Waters T-shirt.

Holy Wingman.

"Muddy?" I nearly whimpered, because Muddy Waters _always_ got me. He was the best blues guy out there, hands down, ever. He was a legend. He was responsible for so many of today's Rockstar legends. He was a sensation in old time Chicago. He was one of my heros. He wasn't very well known by my generation.

He was on Jasper Whitlock's shirt.

Muddy was a sign. God brought this dirty new millenium hippie to me, I knew it. What right did I have to deny God's gifts?

Thus began my bromance with the Jasper.

"I'm Edward," I said, holding out my hand for him to shake.

"Pleasure," Jasper laughed, either at my gentlemanly ways or the growing twinkle of fondness in my eye. Or the pot induced haze he was surely entering into. Or all of the above.

"My sister will probably be here in a week and a half. I'll introduce you. She should probably have your babies," I blabbered.

"Sounds good, man," he laughed releasing my hand.

I laughed with him, again getting that giddy feeling I hadn't know existed until I came here and found Bella.

"In the meantime, would you like to jam sometime? Tonight, maybe? I have blues records. And chinese food. And I'm trying to keep myself from stalking this girl that will probably be the love of my life if she ever gets over her annoying ass trust issues. Also, I'd like to enlist you as my wingman if you choose to accept the responsibility. Which pretty much just involves helping me get Bella over said annoying ass trust issues."

He looked confused for a second, scaring me because I was already in love with the idea of finding a guy like him that wasn't a total tool. Emmett was rad, don't get me wrong. Meeting him three weeks ago was an unforgettable experience. But the Big E and I had nothing in common, really. So watching Jasper become critical about our union was probably allowing me to feel a fraction of how Bella said she felt all the time with me.

Then he nodded once and smiled. And no hippie mother fucker has ever broken my heart, so unlike Bella that was all I needed as confirmation that Jasper and I would be together for life.

"I don't know about all that trust issue business, Edward, but I'm down for a wingman gig. The jam sesh and the chinese food sound pretty alright, too. And of course Alice."

He winked about the Alice comment and I wasn't even upset. I would marry them myself.

Now I just had to make sure Bella loved him as much as I did.

* * *

**Who's been an iconic musician/band in your life?**

**Send me your thoughts, they amuse me. **

**LOVE YOUS**

**-Car**


	4. That Wouldn't Be Right

**CHAPTER 4 - That Wouldn't Be Right**

_"These eyes behold a lot of what these hands cannot"_

- The Stevedores "That Wouldn't Be Right"

**Bella**

"They're just fucking shoes, Bella."

Rosalie was annoyed with me. Royally annoyed.

We'd gone shopping and then to dinner with Jess, just as planned. But things weren't going smoothly. Not for me anyway.

Edward effing Cullen was too far under my skin for me to be anything even slightly resembling smooth.

I'm normally clumsy and uncoordinated, yes. But today was worse.

In the mega Halloween store Rose took me to I knocked over a whole display of wigs. I dropped a plastic pitchfork on Rosalie's feet, ripped a cape that I'd accidenitally pulled off the wall, and spilled my coffee all over her silk camisole.

Sure, she's used to my less than graceful self, but it really was out of control today.

All because a boy that I let platonically, drunkenly spend the night in my room did something endearing with two pairs of sneakers.

When we got to dinner and I coudln't even hold my fork for longer than 3 minutes at a time before dozing off into la-la land and dropping it, Rosalie was ready to rip me in two. She's not a very patient being, my friend Rosalie. And she's extra on edge these days because she thinks Emmett's only two Jager bombs away from proposing to her. And she's not accustomed to feeling excited about someone else owning her, so she's been extra uptight with excitement, and all of the energy she's putting into hiding said excitement.

She and Jess badgered me endlessly for the whole twelve minutes I tried to imply that nothing big was going on. They both knew about my gigantic bronze haired issues though, so resistance was futile.

This is what led us to the here and now. In my room inspecting _the shoes_. The four effing shoes, all in a row, all cute and together and sweet looking.

I was sitting with my legs folded under me on the edge of my bed, clutching a pillow. It was my feather filled protector. My small square of comfort.

Jess was sitting beside me on the bed, letting her silly little dog run around in circles on my comforter.

Rosalie was sitting in Edward's chair throwing unbelieving looks back and forth between the four red shoes and I.

I sort of freaked out when I came out of my shower and Edward was gone. Not because of all the abandonment stuff I went through when he left for Chicago without saying a word to me. I was starting to lean towards believing that he wouldn't be doing anything like that again, at least not anytime soon. I was simply floored by the fact that he'd _listened_ to me. He actually left when asked, granted it was the umpteenth time I'd asked... but still.

I was shocked that he had behaved himself so easily and also at the amount of loss I felt without him around.

Then, after my initial shock at his good behavior and my pathetic want for him wore off, I noticed _the shoes_.

I knew for a fact that pre-shower they were, all four of them, laying in dissaray. Most definitely _not_ in a neat line. Mine had been half way under my bed and his were in a small pile next to the chair since he'd carelessly kicked them off sometime during the night.

Seeing them in a pretty little line, my small version resting agreeably next to his more worldly duo, did funny things to me.

I liked the image. I liked all of the foolish things it could represent and the fact that a boy thought to do something like that for the purpose of pleasing me. I liked that he left some of his posessions at my house.

I was terrified about the metaphor of the whole thing, though.

"Rose, don't you think this is a big statement for a guy to make? I mean, boys don't do silly things like this just for no reason, you know? Girls do these things, as manipulation tools. Thought goes into this."

"Have you even spoken to the kid?" Rosalie asked, responding to me with a laugh in her voice.

Rosalie is two years older than the rest of us, save for Emmett who is one month older than her. She believes this gives her the right to refer to all of us as children whenever she feels like it. I've never argued the matter because most of the time I do feel like an adolescent next to my statuesque friend.

"I highly doubt there was any thought occurring. He's not a very deep guy, Bella. He loves Pancakes for fuck's sake."

Rosalie's also quite foul in her vocabulary, unless her Daddy is around. You get used to it after a while. I've even started realizing that her cuss words are somewhat elegant. The woman is nothing but blonde, tall, brusque intrigue.

"He's an artist," I countered. "He has to be deep."

"Or gay," Jess so helpfully interjected.

Rosalie laughed. Pancakes ran into my side and the yelped at me, as if I attacked him.

"How did he get in here, anyway? I thought the Edward phase was over when he disappeared into thin air two weeks ago," Jess continued.

"Yes, Bella," Rosalie pushed, "How did the prince enter the castle and win back the fair maiden's heart?"

"He, uh, climbed the tree and came in through the window," I told them, trying to sound careless about it all. As if it wasn't an effing weird piece of information that is cause for concern. "Then he explained to me that he was just in Chicago during his disappearance, getting a few things. He's back permanently now. So..._ yay_."

I finished my re-account of activities with trepidation, knowing it was confirmation that I had absolutely no back bone. They both knew how pathetically upset I was when he vanished. And now they were both getting to know how freaking pathetic I was with him around.

I waited for a large reaction; a freak out of sorts.

None came. Jess hummed a response and continued picking purple fuzz balls out of Pancakes' tail.

"How very Repunzel-esque of him," Rose commented in a bored tone.

I forgot: whatever puzzles a normal human will never puzzle Rosalie Hale.

"Isn't Repunzel the one who wove the straw into gold? That funny little man that made the girl give him her first born child? I don't see how that's connected to Edward."

We ignore Jess 85 percent of the time, because she usually doesn't listen closely enough to know what's going on and responds with statements like that.

Hence her non-reaction to the Edward climbing the tree info from seconds before. She mentally checks out on accident, I think. It's not a matter of her being dumb, she's not. It's strictly a matter of her forgetting that people like to be listened to when they speak. It kind of keeps her fun, so we've all learned to go with it.

"Why didn't he use the door like a normal, undemented human?" Rose continued. Still sounding bored.

"He was a little bit tipsy."

"Like... he'd done a few shots at the party and maybe thought Mike was attractive in his Birthday crown, so he hit the road before he did anything homo-awkward kind of tipsy?" Rosalie challenged. "Or like, he used being tipsy as an excuse to get you to forgive him for being a prick?"

"Like he drank a whole bottle of $10.99 tequila alone in his house and then climbed a tree and broke into my window and used his boyish charm to convince me to let him stay the night in that chair tipsy," I admitted with a little laugh, pointing at the chair she was sitting in.

Rosalie's eyes widened, not in shock like most people's would have, but rather in admiration, I'm sure. She wasn't too eager to write off people who could hold their liquor and then provide her with embarrassing stories about themselves. In fact, I may have just began the beginning of a beautiful relationship between Edward and Rose. She also admired passion and commitment, two things I suppose Edward's side of the story did hold.

She sat up straighter and smiled at me.

"That's borderline romantic. Did you screw him?"

"Rosalie! No. God... I practically just met him."

I rolled my eyes and tried to hide the way my heart raced uncontrollably at the idea of "screwing" him. I know there's now way either of the other occupants in the room would be able to hear my thumping pulse, but when Edward was concerned I was highly involved in hiding things from _myself_. It was too easy for my mind to form images of him, all drunk and charming and honest, touching me and kissing me, and caressing me...

"You didn't but you want to," Rosalie concluded smugly after studying my face.

"Who doesn't?" Jess interjected. "If Mike wasn't so completely marry-able I'd be on the Edward Train myself."

I very nearly threw up and the idea of her even so much as touching him. Not just because it was Jess. I love Jess. She deserves goodness.

But because it could be any faceless girl in that situation, trying to board the Edward Train, and I'd still want to rid myself of my insides due to disgust and hurt.

And that's when I knew for sure that I was in trouble if Edward ever _did_ walk away from me while I was gathering the courage to really figure out what we felt for each other.

Things misted up as my eyes unfocused. Again I was trapped in my reactions to him, scared shitless that he already had too much control. I couldn't be thrown away again. It wouldn't be right. Or tolerable. Or bearable.

"You look like you're going to be sick," Rose commented.

"You're not allergic to Pancakes, are you?" Jess asked, sounding truly concerned though I doubt it was for my benefit.

I shook my head and took a deep breath.

"What are you doing?" Rosalie asked me.

"I'm trying to reel in my Edward emotions."

"You're _E_-Motions?" Jessica laughed at her own joke, emphasizing the "E" sound. "_Eee_-motions for Edward. Get it?" she asked, still laughing at herself.

Sometimes all of the marijuana smoking that Jess did in high school catches up to her. Mike assures us that she wasn't too different before that, since they've known each other since junior high, but I have my doubts. She had to be missing a few important brain cells.

"Clever," Rosalie deadpanned as I rolled my eyes.

"I don't know why I can't control my reactions to him," I sighed.

"Or to the stupid sappy shit he does," Rose added with a nod to the shoes.

I bit my lip and looked down at the shoes as I nodded in agreeance.

"I can't even let him touch me, Rose."

I admitted this sad truth quietly, refusing to bring my eyes up to hers.

"Well, it's always good to have boundaries..." she responded carefully, not berating me for what I'm sure sounded heinous since I clearly wanted the boy in dangerous, physical ways. Instead her tone was appropriately responsive while still allowing me room to elaborate if I wished.

"No, it's nothing normal like boundaries. He touched my arm with his finger and I freaked out. Pulled away. I basically asked him not to touch me at all, ever, unless I said it was ok first."

Beside me I could feel the air grow still as even Jess' attention drew alert. Pancakes was the only thing giving life to the room for a moment. The other two women and I were fixed figures in the room, void of motion as my words marinated in the air and gave more life to the idea that I was probably clinically insane.

"Why?" Rose asked simply, softening somehow and looking like she really did want to understand.

"It was too much."

"I thought he only touched your arm..." Jess said.

I'm sure it made even less sense to her than it did to Rosalie. She was never plagued by a sudden, unexpected man running head first into her life and changing the way everything looked or felt. She had Mike, who was exactly what she always wanted, exactly what her life had scripted her experience in love to be. He had been a steady figure in her existence long before their love bloomed, someone she longed for and attempted to mold her life around for years. They were perfect for each other, and happy, and probably always going to be together, yes. But they were not something that formed out of explosive feelings and untamed emotions.

My only chance at having an understanding ear was Rosalie, who had experienced this sort of monumental shift in her world with Emmett. She wasn't prepared for what he did to her heart when they found each other, really truly found each other, either. Part of the ice queen persona had melted when he finally broke her down into a committed relationship with him, something she had never, ever desired before that time.

"I can't really explain it," I sighed, throwing my words towards Jess since she had spoken to me last, but keeping my eyes on Rose. "The only way I could explain it to him was that it was too good. It made me too excited, or something. It was... it was just too much."

Jess sat in confused silence, apparently deciding to accept just not understanding me. She smiled in support when I glanced at her, though. Becuase she's the type of person that usually strives to be sincere, even if she cannot fully achieve it.

When I turned back to Rosalie she was still assessing me with pursed lips.

"It's bizarre, isn't it?" I asked.

"Yes," she agreed. "Something is most definitely wrong with you."

Rosalie Hale will never lie to you, or sugar coat, or deflect a tough issue.

"But," she continued, "he knows all of this and still didn't take off running for the hills?"

I nodded, "Yes. I told him that I couldn't handle it right after it happened. He still spent the night. In that chair. And he was extremely happy to do so."

One perfect, blonde eyebrow arched.

"Well damn. Emmett would shit a brick if I told him he couldn't touch me."

"Mike doesn't like it when I touch him with cold hands. He actually makes this little squeak noise whenever it accidentally happens. Sometimes, though, I'll take stuff in and out of the freezer before I go to bed if he's done something shitty like forgetting to pick up more milk or call his mother on important holidays."

"The point is, Bella, the kid obviously has it bad for you in the same freaky way you do for him. If he's happy with a Hand's Off relationship, then maybe Alice's soul mate theory isn't complete crap. Because you deserve to figure your crazy shit out and he's willing to wait around while you do. You're two dysfunctional peas in a pod. You've never made sense to me. Now the both of you can be a mind fuck together."

I smiled at her smile and felt a weight sort of lift from my shoulders. Rosalie's perspective was interesting, though this was the first I'd heard of any soul mate theory from Alice. From the little I knew of Edward's tiny sister it made sense, though. I could picture her spouting of well thought out points on the subjet with absolute conviction.

"I'm not sure how, but that made me feel a lot better. Thanks, Rose."

"No problem. Just promise that you'll take care of_ you_, Bell. You're too amazing to compromise," Rosalie smiled, sincere and oddly serene as she spoke.

I blushed a little at the compliment and nodded, then shrugged.

"I'm just doing my best to not make the mistakes I did before, with James."

"Oh, Edward's already a step up from James," Jess said in encouragement. "Better hair. Better clothes. Better ass."

"He may be inane, but the man _is_ hot," Rosalie commented, reinforcing Jess. "You've made an excellent upgrate on the Boyfriend Scale in the looks department, at least."

"He's not my boyfriend," I corrected quickly, harshly, before the crazy ladies took off running with the concept.

"Bull shit. You want each other. Why not?" Rose asked.

"Lets see... we barely know each other. He's been drunk 75 percent of the time we've actually been in each other's presence. Boyfriends and girlfriends usually touch. Um, he hasn't asked me yet... Take your pick of reasons."

"Those reasons are boring, and stupid, and I refuse to accept them."

I rolled my eyes, feeling frustrated and slightly amused at her refusal to accept anything I said.

"You know, it's a shame you've written him off as such a useless idiot. You act exactly the same sometimes."

"Please don't compare me to your deadbeat boufriend."

I glared at her for a second before we both broke into laughter. I attempted to throw the pillow at her, missing by a good four inches. Pancakes lept off of my bed in pursuit of it, forcing me to get up and grab both of them from the floor when he began sinking his teeth into the white fluff a little too wildly.

"This is certainly an interesting turn of events," Rosalie said as I settled back into my place on the end of my bed and dropped Pancakes into Jess' lap. "Poor Jacob Black spends all of his time trying to woo you into loving him, to no real avail. And all Edward Cullen has to do is chug tequila and leave his shit in your room, and bam! You are in deeper than you've ever been before."

"Don't bring Jacob into this, please," I mumbled, hating the fact that she was right about him probably wanting and trying for more than our friends-with-benefits arangement. We never spoke of it, so I acted as if his deeper interest in me wasn't really there. It was one of my most important pretends.

"Jacob Black worships you, Bella. I thought you knew," Jess interjected.

"She ignores it," Rose replied for me, sounding bored with everything again.

"That's all beside the point right now," I huffed, glaring at Rosalie for even bringing it up and becoming desperate to change the subject back to something I _wanted_ to think about. Of course I landed on something concerning Edward. "Right now we're here to talk about shoes, remember?"

I pointed down at the shoes and looked back up to Rose, who sat up and pulled her gigantic purse over to her side.

"We're back on this again, are we?" she said lazily into her purse. "Again, they're just shoes, Bella. Look..." she reached in her purse and pulled out a pair of beat up Vans slip on sneakers that were very clearly large enough for Emmett feet, "when I set Emmett's gross shoes next to my heels it's not that...huh."

She threw the dirty sneakers onto my floor and kicked her black 3 inch heels next to them, all in a row like mine and Edward's red converse. But now she had stopped talking and was sort of just staring at the new little row of shoes, not saying anything.

"Well fuck me, that's actually adorable."

I almost fell off the bed from laughing too hard. I did fall onto my back and earned a whack on my foot from Rosalie, probably for the mere fact that I was laughing at her and she was ashamed she had feelings. Jess sat up and pushed me out of the way so she could see what was going on. She "awed" when she peered over the side of the bed at Rose and Em's shoes. Pancakes sat on my chest and licked my shoulder.

It was a happy, girly moment that was broken by the sound of a grown man opening my window and jumping through it onto my hard wood floor.

"Bella, I have a wonderful surprise!"

His voice cut right through me in a sweet, smooth way. The feeling of him being close to me contradicted the soothing feeling of his voice, though. Excitement ran through me and I sat up, thrilled and alarmed at his sudden presence, filled with relief and suddenly on edge.

Pancakes fluidly jumped off of my chest and into Edward's arms as I sat up. He was very near my bed now, very near me, leaning over and cuddling the dog to his chest though his emerald eyes were glued to mine. He looked happy and excited, and he had a food stain on his black hoodie. He wasn't even acknowledging the other girls in the room, but I don't think anyone really cared.

"Well if it isn't the Treemeister himself," I heard Rosalie murmur.

"Pancakes, did you miss Unlcle Eddie?" Jess asked in the sickeningly little voice she uses for the dog. She perched on her knees and petting Pancakes' head as Edward continued to coddle him and stare at me.

I wanted them to leave, the girls. I wanted to be alone with him and possibly pour cement all around my room so that neither of us could ever leave or be disturbed by anyone again. I was very unhealthily imagining what it would be like to only have him to talk to for the rest of time, and loving the idea of ridding the world of anything that could distract him from me.

A wave of panic pushed up my spine and spread down into my fingers and through my heart, bringing me back to reality in a counter-reaction to my sudden isolation desire. I could have Edward, someday, in some compacitly. But I had to control myself for now and get a hold of these unreasonable thoughts and urges, before I got carried away again and gave a boy everything too soon.

"Are you all right?" he asked quietly, handing the dog back to Jess and taking an inch of a step closer to me. I could feel him wanting to reach out and touch me. Everything in his eyes told me that he could see the panic fly through me. But he restrained his hands from reaching out. Oddly enough, that's what calmed me down the most. His trust in what I needed. His complete lack of panic at my craziness grew my faith in him and in whatever we were sharing.

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"Don't tell me you're fine if you aren't, please."

I smiled sweetly, sincerely. I missed his demands of my honestly.

"I'm fine."

When his eyes believed me his smile rose into a beautiful image of perfection, and we were all met once again with his uncontained excitement.

"Good. You're about to get even better!"

He turned and abruptly left my room, leaving me in shock. Rosalie was flipping through the 3 month old Rolling Stone magazine she'd grabbed off of my desk, and Jess was looking at me as if I knew what was going on.

The next moment Edward was walking back into my room. With another guy.

New guy was tall and thin, not as wiry as Edward but still of similar build. He had a leather jacket and cowboy boots on, giving him a look that I could truly call unique because it looked so natural on him, unlike others who force they style on themselves. His hair was long and twisted into odd angles. He wore a leather head band that stretched across his forehead and could be seen peeking out between the crazy twists of hair where it wrapped around the rest of his head. He was extremely attractive, in a different manner than Edward was, which didn't appeal to me the same way but was still something I could greatly appreciate. His lazy smile was endearing, as was the distant look in his eye. He brought with him a hint of a scent I barely recognized as pot.

"What is _that_?" Rosalie asked, finally turning her attention to the things happening outside of the pages of Rolling Stone and eyeing the new guy with disdain.

"_That_ is Jasper. He's my best friend," Edward announced proudly, matching Jasper's carefree smile.

He looked at me, as if for approval, so I smiled back. I couldn't hide my confusion though.

"Is he from Chicago?" I hedged, thinking maybe his excitement was due to a life-long buddy being in town.

"No, man. But I lived in Chicago for 3 weeks when I was 19," Jasper responded.

"No shit!" Edward exclaimed, growing even happier. He directed his attention back to me and asked, "Isn't he great, Bella?"

"Yeah Bella, aren't you positively thrilled that your wacko boyfriend invited Jasper the Fabulous Dirty Hippie into your home?" Rosalie interjected in a classic sarcastic tone.

"Wait. Did you just call me her boyfriend? Did she just call me your boyfriend?" Edward asked frantically, turning from Rose to me in a flash, letting his eyes dance.

"Right on, E. That was way easier than you said it would be. This one's got to go down in wing man history. It has to be record time, wouldn't you say Blondie?"

Jasper sat down on the arm of Edward's chair and pulled on a strand of Rosalie's hair as he referred to her, earning him a pinch on the arm.

"Fuck, woman, that hurts," Jasper complained, though he didn't sound frantic or upset at all. Just calm and slightly annoyed.

"Don't touch my hair with your hippie hands."

"What is he talking about?" I asked Edward pointedly, ignoring Jasper and Rosalie's banter. "Wing man?"

"It's nothing-"

"What was easier than you said it would be?" I cut him off and asked, growing more specific in my questioning. I tilted my head to the side and heldg back the smirk that wanted to escape my lips at the charming way Edward looked extremely flustered.

"He's high Bella, he doesn't kno-," Edward fake laughed quietly.

"Jasper?" I inquired, turning my attentions to the guy that seemed to have even less of a filter than Edward.

"Earlier on this fine afternoon Edward enlisted me as his wingman extraordinaire in order to win over the fair Lady Stella."

He spoke with an air of a narrator, gesturing towards me and chuckling at the end of his small tale at something no one else seemed to catch on to.

It was all confusing but I got stuck on the very last part. Lady Stella?

"My name's Bella..."

"I told him that. He has trouble remembering things," Edward explained to me quickly. "It's endearing," he shrugged with a dazzling smile.

I threw him a doubtful look and he sat down next to me.

I looked down at the three small inches of air between us with worry and wonder. Pancakes jumped into Edward's lap and Jess scooted over to put a tiny hoodie on her dog, since it'd gotten chilly in the room with the window now wide open.

"Wow. Stella and the Boyfriend with the Pot Head Hippie Wingman. This is classic," Rosalie laughed.

"Sounds like tall, blonde, and bitchy over here needs a hit," Jasper drawled, pulling a joint out of a pocket in his leather jacket. "You ever consider chilling out, Blondie?"

"Please. I haven't smoked pot since my freshman year of high school," bored Rose responded, glancing at the extended offering.

"This isn't Alice, is it?" Jasper asked suddenly, sounding more concerned than I'm sure he ever has before, and pointing the joint at Rosalie.

"No way. This is Satan's bride. Alice, my angelic little sister, won't be here until next week, at least," Edward responded as he leaned back on his arms.

I turned to him with the intention of asking about what the hell was going on, but got distracted by the way he was staring at me. He had such a habit of this intense practice, and it made my skin crawl everytime I knew his eyes were on me. But the feeling wasn't all together unpleasant so I couldn't really ask him to stop. Not that I believed he would.

"Are you pawning your sweet little sister off on the hipster? She's going to _lov__e_ that," Rose laughed, pulling the joint from Jasper's fingers and sticking it behind her ear.

"Bella, am I your boyfriend?" Edward asked after the stare between us had heated up in the way only the two of us could feel.

"Um... no. I don't think so. Rosalie was just teasing," I responded quickly.

"Stop being an idiot, Stella. Let Tippy be your boyfriend," Rose chided, earning a laugh from Jasper.

"Tippy?" Edward asked her with a hint of contempt.

"I heard all about your tipsy adventure up the tree. Tispy led to Tippy... it's cute and demeaning. Let me have my fun."

"I like it," Jasper said, pulling again on a strand of Rose's hair.

She pinched him again and he laughed.

I'm not absolutely positive, but I'm almost sure a hint of a smile pull on her cheeks.

How about that? Rosalie likes Jasper.

"I thought Edward was Repunzel," Jess questioned suddenly.

"What the hell do girls talk about when we're not around?" Edward asked with a laugh.

"Lately it's been you, mostly," Rose snorted.

"Me? Her boyfriend?"

"Stop it. It was a joke, Edward," I sighed.

"If I'm your boyfriend does that mean I can touch you now?"

He leaned closer to me, and his tone was clearly playfull, but something inside of me went into default panic mode.

"No," I replied, leaning backwards and away from him as a reflex-reaction.

We were staring at each other again, but there was a different sort of tension this time. An uncomfortable, desperate version.

Rosalie saved me by standing up and putting her shoes back on. Her actions churned the air and brought a certain peace back to the small atmosphere of my room.

"Let's go, Jess. Emmett's a baby and refuses to go to bed without being tucked in."

Jess nodded and scooped up Pancakes from Edward's lap, then grabbed her purse and followed Rose to the door of my bedroom.

"You too, Hippie," Rosalie called over her shoulder.

I'm not sure how, but she understood that Edward and I needed to have a conversation alone.

Jasper stood up from the chair and scratched his head as he began to walk out.

"You good here, E?" he asked Edward, checking in like a good friend, I guess.

"I'm perfect here. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sounds good, man. I'll bring the mandolin. And the matches."

Edward nodded and waved with one hand. I didn't even want to know what kind of activities would warrant the need of mandolins and matches.

"Come on, Jasper. Don't forget I have your weed!" Rosalie yelled.

"Damnit, Blondie, chill! You can have it. Be gone your demons, woman!" we heard Jasper reply as he drifted into my living room and then eventually out the door with Rosalie and Jessica.

I heard the door click shut and then the lock turn into place. Rosalie had my back up key for the thousands of times I locked myself out.

"Wow, I missed you," Edward said when I turned back to his green stare and smiled.

"Yeah, me too."

"Yeah?"

"Of course."

His smirk was dark and grateful in response to my words. I felt shaky and centered as I sat there and stared at him, marveling a the contradictions he always created within me.

"Tell me something about you, Bella."

"Like what?"

"I don't care. Somthing no one else knows. Something everyone else knows. Something you like, or would die for, or want to scream about, or have cried over. Anything."

I sat and thought for a moment, so uncertain what is was I should share with him. A flash of blonde hair and blue eyes passed through my mind, taunting me with the perfect story to give to him: the key to my uncertainty and fear. The story of James.

I pushed it aside, not really wanting this night with him to be too heavy with those specific past burdens, but rather enjoyable. I wanted to laugh with him and create memories of strength and merriment.

"Or you could just become a mute. Fuck, Bella, I'm creative but I don't want to keep making up stories about you in my mind."

He sort of chuckled and I laughed as I threw him a disapproving look.

"I just don't know what to say. We still have practically everything to learn about each other."

"Can I ask you something, then?"

"Sure."

"Are you going to lean away from me everytime I move towards you?"

His eyes were serious and dangerously close to a hint of sadness. I felt my stomach drop to my feet at what my shameful reaction just minutes before had done to this boy.

"No, Edward. Someday I'm almost postivite I'll be leaning right back in to you."

I smiled at him in apology and reached towards him with my right hand. His eyes dropped to the movement and watched intently as my limb moved towards his body.

The way he was leaning back on his arms was causing the strings of the hoodie fall to both sides of him. I grabbed the one dangling from his left side and twisted it with my outstretched hand. I smirked when his eyes traveled back up from my hand to my face.

"Tease," he accused.

I laughed and shrugged.

"It's not that I don't want to be close to you, Edward. I do. I... this is going to sound so weird-"

"Bella, this whole thing between us is weird. You don't have to put a disclaimer in front of every fucking odd thing you feel about me."

"Right. Well, when I got out of the shower today and you weren't here I felt horrible. Well, that's not completely true, part of me was impressed you actually left... but the rest of me was sad that you were gone. I hate being away from you."

I was still fiddling with the hoodie string and I fought the urge to look down at it. My first reaction was to hide myself, at least me eyes, or shield my words with a bashful look or embarrased gesture. But Edward wouldn't do that. He told me what he felt and he owned it. I should start to do the same.

"If I could kiss you right now, I would," he whispered, pulling in the air of the room around us, creating an envelope of intimacy.

I felt my breathing deepening and growing heavy. I recognized this feeling, this urge of want and need that was starting to bubble in my stomach. My heart wasn't so eager to plunge into desire, however. It held it's little shield up and reminded me why I was twirling a string around my finger and not his tempting strands of hair.

The first time Jame's kissed me danced across my memory. Then the image of him walking away from me after telling me he just never truly felt what he said he did danced past right after, just as vivid as the kiss memory.

It was still scary and real. And though I was done mourning the boy in the images, I wasn't strong enough to keep myself from placing this new, more powerful boy in them as a prophecy of what could come to be. If I didn't get used to how good it was for his physical touch to ignite me then I couldn't fall to pieces when I realized I'd never have it again.

"I'm sorry," I responded, hearing the sorrow in my voice fight through the huskiness of longing.

"Don't be," he sighed, hiding his eyes from me for a spilt second by closing them. "When I do kiss you, it's going to be well worth the wait."

He winked at me and then leaned back even farther, resting his whole back on my bed and throwing his hands behind his head as a makeshift pillow. I hesitantly followed suit, resting on my side next to him. I let my hand wander back towards his chest and pick up the friendly little string again.

"My mother and father are divorced," I said, finally giving him a piece of information like he asked for earlier.

"When you were younger?"

"Yes. Three."

"Are you mad at them?"

"No. They weren't meant to be together, and it's sort of obvious whenever you get them in the same room. They're both good people and the split was mutual. They rushed into everything. Desire, marriage, parenthood, divorce."

I shrugged and bit my lip.

"I really want to kiss you when you do that," he breathed.

"Talk about divorce?"

He laughed at me.

"Bite your lip."

"Oh. Ok."

I wasn't sure what the proper response is to that so I settled for blushing.

"My parents are in the happiest marriage the world has ever known," Edward said with a sigh.

"I bet that's been nice to grow up around."

"It is amazing to see, honestly. The whole true love set up. What I don't get is how Alice and I got so fucked up in that department when we've had the perfect example in front of our faces every single day."

"So you blame your whoring ways on your parents pure love?" I laughed.

"Hey, I'm _not_ a whore."

"I'm sorry. Do you prefer _lady of the night_?"

"Ha-ha. I've only had sex with one girl, Bella. Hopefully by the time I die it will have only been two."

He looked at me pointedly. I blushed and felt my legs light on fire from the inside. The urge to turn my apartment into a bomb shelter re-emerged.

"That's my goal, too," I replied quietly.

"I know it's a long shot, but please tell me that numero uno on your list isn't James."

My heavy sigh confirmed his suspicion. He punched the comforter and probably cursed under his breath.

I opened my mouth to say something about it being a happy memory, at least, one of the few I still had of James. But before I could speak, he did.

"I want to be your boyfriend, Bella."

That caught me off guard.

"Ok-"

"I tell people you're my girlfriend."

"Who? Jasper?"

"No, not Jasper. I knew he'd figure out it wasn't true when he saw us together. Plus if he's to be my wing man then he has to know the truth about everything, right? How else can he help me?"

"Oh yeah... where did all this business about a wing man come from?"

"Fate brought me Jasper today, Bella."

He smiled widely, happily, and I couldn't help but do the same even though he wasn't answering any of my questions. Edward happy made me happy, automatically.

"It did, did it?"

"Actually a suicidal rabbit crossing the highway and my road rage brought me Jasper, but fate sounds more enticing."

"That's sweet. But I'm still not being educated about the wing man thing."

"I've enlisted his services as a friend and confidant, that's all. The title's mostly for fun. He's going to help me woo you."

I snorted.

"I may have trust issues the size of Russia, but I assure you, Edward. I'm effficiently wooed already."

Whatever happens to him that makes his features appear darker happened, and he was even more enticing than the moment before. The crookedness of his smile was relentless. My heart beat sped up.

"Good. Doesn't matter, though. I still want to keep him."

"He did seem sort of fun," I relented, because I honestly did find Jasper interesting. He pushed Rose's buttons and didn't venture far beyond three simple emotions. I'd never really encountered that before.

"Do you know what we did today? We played music and ate Chinese food and discussed the sociological effects jazz music's had on America. He gave me this, too."

Edward pulled up the sleeve of his hoodie and revealed a thin leather strap curled twice around his inked wrist. It was dark and worn. And it matched the one Jasper had been wearing on his head.

"You have friendship bracelets?" I laughed, pulling hard on the hoodie string in amusement, causing it to scrunch up one side of the hood.

"They aren't bracelets," he laughed, sounding offended in the way boys do when they think their manhood is being threatened, "it's a spirit band or some shit like that."

"Spirit band?"

"It sounds fruity, I know. It's all about what's on the inside, what connects all of us, and... damnit, he explains it better than I do, all right?"

He chuckled and I look down at his wrist which was now resting on his chest skeptically.

He examined it closely as I examined him closely, deciding that perhaps Jasper was a really good influence on Edward, despite the pot and the nonchalance and the crazy hippie vibe. His eyes pulled up to meet mine, and when he met my furrowed brow he sighed heavily.

"Fuck. They're _friendship_ spirit bands, I guess."

I rolled onto my back, finally letting go of the hoodie string, and laughed at his admission.

"Bella, can I tell you something about me?" he asked, and as I turned my head to face his I saw that he was smiling at me, but looking very serious at the same time.

"Of course."

"I've never had a best friend before. Or any real friends for that matter."

"Too distracted with all the women?" I asked, only half joking around with him.

"That, and the fact that I've never really found anyone worth investing in."

His eyes were hard and true. His statements blunt, just like always. I'd never heard anyone speak so frankly about people before. He wasn't being cruel, though. I was starting to realize that Edward was as lost as I was, just in a different way. My heart had lost it's ability to hand over trust to a man. Somewhere along the line he'd lost the natural need for other people; true companionship.

"So this is kind of a big deal to me," he continued quietly as we stared at each other, lying side by side on my bed, our faces a foot apart.

"Jasper's a big deal to you?" I asked sincerely, trying to understand.

"All of you are. My whole entire life Alice has been my only constant in terms of a friend figure. She's great, but she can only provide me with so much, you know? Now every thing's changing. You are my future, and Jasper's my brother, and the rest of them, Jess and Newton, Emmett and his demon lady... they're pretty fucking all right, too. I don't know. I don't do this kind of stuff normally. Form relationships."

"What makes us so different?"

"I don't know. You're all just _worth_ it."

I nodded my head a little bit, understanding what he meant because I wouldn't want to give any of them up either. Clearly I wasn't well acquainted with Jasper yet, but Edward had only known the rest of us for a few weeks and he was declaring his undying devotion to the group. If Edward found so much attractive about a friendship with Jasper then I had a feeling it wouldn't take long for the wing man to grow on me, too.

"What you did with the shoes freaked me the eff out," I said after a silent moment, remembering that we still hadn't discussed it and we probably should since I was supposed to be getting used to being completely open with him.

"I couldn't help it."

"Did you walk home barefoot?"

"Well, yeah."

"Weren't your feet cold. It's so cold out these days."

"I wasn't really worried about it. Why did it freak you out so much?"

"I think... because... it looks so_ right_."

That statement earned me a soft, alluring smile.

"Marry me, Bella."

That one earned him a dropped jaw.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

I blinked a few times, waiting for him to laugh and tell me I needed to relax, he was just teasing because he loved seeing me caught of guard.

He stayed solemn, though. The only hint of movement was the fire in his eyes, green flames burning into me with nothing but solid sincerity.

"You can't be serious."

"Why not? You said it yourself, it's right."

"I said that our shoes look right sitting next to each other on my floor."

"Same thing."

"No, Edward. You setting our red converse in a line on my bedroom floor is not even in the same general family as a marriage proposal!"

"Fine, fine. Don't accept it tonight," he huffed, crossing his arms across his chest and sounding like an annoyed, petulant, overgrown child.

I stared at him in wonder, disbelieving that he could even exist. He was so odd and unpredictable. So irritating and wonderful. Scary and beautiful and entirely too capable of making me irrational.

"You're going to ask again, aren't you?" I accused.

"Every day, probably," he admitted shortly without turning his face towards me.

He was still pouting. I was still gaping.

"I'm not going to say yes anytime soon."

"But you will someday."

"I don't... I mean I can't even handle you touching me right now..."

"Isabella Marie Cullen. I like it."

I do too. _Shit, shit, shit..._

"Stop it. This is too much."

"Marry me."

"No."

I could see him fighting for control of himself and I really believed that in that moment he thought he wanted to marry me. Me. The crazy girl that freaked out when he left me for Chicago then freaked out some more when he came back and laid his finger on my skin.

Something wasn't right with either of us.

"It's not right for you to ask me like this," I accused, trying to hold my own and rationally explain to him why we were not getting married after knowing each other for two weeks and two days.

"That's bull. No matter how I ask you, it's right. All that matters is that it's _me_ asking _you_."

"Girls dream about this moment their entire lives-"

"Well wake up, baby, because it's happening in real life, right now."

I pursed my lips and fought the urge to smile, or scream, or just let my mouth hang open in disbelief. He wasn't hinting at humor at all, though. Instead he was all dark, sincere seriousness, staring at me with determination and a look I never, ever remembered James giving me.

"No."

"Not tonight, you mean."

"Not tonight and not anytime soon."

"But someday."

It's like he needed the reassurance from me, that someday we'd be wed and have the whole dream come true. I honestly couldn't even imagine it. And I tried. I laid there and attempted whole heartedly to envision it all. But my mind wouldn't let me form the images of he and I as husband and wife, buying houses or taking vacations, or lounging around on a lazy Sunday. Sure, when the scene was of him walking away from me I could produce that in an instant. But one of a happily ever after? It was blocked by some giant wall my insides had erected thanks to another boy who carelessly ruined my ability to love easily.

I still wasn't equipped enough to believe it wasn't all pretend.

"Can we talk about something else, please?" I requested in a small voice, begging him with my eyes.

He sighed very heavily and raked a hand down his face before nodding and staring up at the ceiling.

"For the record, though," he began quietly, "I'm not trying to push you. I'm just going after what I want, because that's how I do life. I'm already yours, Bella. You know that. Boyfriend or not, fiance or not... it's true and I will not deny it, nor will I let you deny it. And in my head you're already mine. To believe otherwise is what isn't right."

My air caught in my lungs and my throat closed up. Everything in me tightened in a good or bad way, I'm still not sure.

_His?_

His.

I couldn't completely deny it.

Scary.

"We can't keep talking like this," I concluded, choosing not to confirm his declaration but rather to evade it.

I shook my head slightly to myself and bit my lip as I thought out loud. "I know that we feel the same, unexplicable things, Edward. But we live in a real world with real expectations and ways of doing things. It just doesn't happen like this."

"I know. But it is."

His voice was tight, his arms still crossed. I was pissing him off. But I needed to convey my feelings and see if he could hear me out.

"I understand that you're upset with me-"

"I'm fucking pissed that this isn't easier for you to deal with, but I'm not mad at_ you_, Bella-"

"All right, fine. You're upset with the situation then... and it's sort of my fault because I can't change myself... but I need this to be more natural. Remember? I need to pretend."

"But you're so real to me," he replied with the velvet that I was used to hearing from him. He was crossing over into pleading with me.

"You're _too_ real to me," I replied, begging him with my voice to look at me again.

When he did it was good, because we were reconnected and back on the same team the second our eyes reunited. He softened and I put on my brave face.

"I don't like fighting with you," I said, picking up the string again and attempting to use my best apologetic expression.

"Well if you're so damn hell bent on doing this _normally_ then you should get used to it, Swan. That's what real people who care about each other do. So either way we're destined to tear each other's throats out once in a while."

"Oh, so we have a shot at being boring and normal?" I asked teasingly, scrunching up my nose in faux disgust.

He chuckled at me and took the string from my grip, then reached over and began lightly tracing the my face with it.

"Nice try. I've already climbed your tree twice and you want me so much you won't let me touch you."

"Right. Not normal."

He must think I'm cute enough to put up with, because he smiled sweetly and winked at me and every previous trace of annoyance left his face in an instant.

"Never. At this point, with our ensemble of misfit toys, it just wouldn't be right."

I nodded and laughed with him. Then I asked him to stay over. Of course he agreed, moving our line of red shoes over to an area where they wouldn't be disturbed before he settled into his chair, kicking off his brown Vans and pulling the zebra blanket down around him.

We said goodnight to Marie and Anthony, then Edward blew me a kiss and closed his eyes.

When I came back into my bedroom after changing in to my pajamas and doing all of the normal, girly, getting ready for bed rituals in the bathroom he was already asleep.

I noticed the black hoodie on the arm of the chair where he'd apparently discarded it before slipping into sleep. I walked over and grabbed it before heading to bed, wrapping it around me and pulling his wonderful smell into my soul.

A lot of things about us weren't right (yet). But a whole hell of a lot more was.

* * *

**Do you have a favorite instrument?**

**Please share your thoughts, they encourage me.**

**Thanks for reading :)**

**LOVE YOUS**

**-Car**


	5. Satisfaction

**CHAPTER 5 - Satisfaction**

_"I can't get no satisfaction_

_I can't get no girl reaction_

_Cause I try and I try and I try and I try_

_I can't get no, I can't get no!"_

- The Rolling Stones "Satisfaction"

**Edward**

We have a problem.

A loud, obnoxious, likes to put his hands all over my Bella, Indian problem.

"Relax, E. She doesn't want him, man, she wants you. Remember the magic we work on her daily?"

"Fuck, his finger grazed her ear again. Did you see that?"

I clenched my hand around my hair, pulling and tugging and restraining the shit out of the rest of my body. I didn't want to murder him in front of everyone. Somehow that didn't seem classy.

"Let. It. Go. Bro."

Emmett, the un-helpful asshole, was enjoying this scene greatly. He was dressed as a giant bear and laughing at me.

I watched silently as this Jacob character molested Bella with his eyes for the umpteenth time in the 3 hours we'd been at Newton's Halloween Bash-a-Thon (apparently Emmett gets to name every party Newton has) but now I was ready for action.

"I'm going to pull all of his long hair out and tie it in a pretty Indian braid and then choke him with it," I announced to the guys, standing up.

Jasper stood up as well, sighing and staring longinly at the joint he'd just pulled out to smoke. Ever the faithful wing man, he was sacrificing his hazy chill time for me and my Indian murdering.

"Don't do it, man. Bella will freak and hate you forever," Emmett threw in more words of wisdom as he sipped from a jar marked "honey" that was really filled with Wild Turkey honey whiskey.

His statement gave me pause, and I reconsidered pulling all of Jacob's hair out for a second.

"What do you suggest I do, then? Let him have his way with her while I'm not even allowed to lay a finger on her? Uh-uh. Not gunna happen, Pooh Bear."

Emmett laughed at me and shook his head a little bit, making the small bear ears he had clipped in his curly hair shake side to side comically.

"Talk to him first. Warnings always work better than fist fights that come out of nowhere. At least from the girls' point of view. Which, in the end, is always the only point of view that matters. This way, you don't piss Bella off by attacking her friend, you still get to tell him what's up, and everyone wins. Then, if he keeps at it..."

Emmett made a punching motion in the air in front of him as he smirked. Then he drank some more "honey" and burped.

Oddly enough what he said made sense. Well, I could see how Bella would think it made more sense at least. She did tolerate the kid, so she probably didn't want me putting him a choke hold.

We were now almost two months into our offbeat relationship, and things were good. And by "good" I mean I was falling harder for her everyday and I don't even really know why. Probably because she was still proving to be original, and beautiful, and smart, and clumsy, and so many things that hadn't ever been around to sustain my attention in a girl before.

We spent every single day together in some form or another. I always stayed at her place at night in that cushy chair with Marie and Anthony sitting bodiless on the desk next to me. She'd brought in more blankets for me, and we had this little ritual where she'd ask me if I was staying and I'd always respond, "of course."

As if I'd miss the chance to watch her fall asleep, or wake up, or both. Never.

I felt like I really knew her now, which was unbeatable. I still did not know the James story, that's true, but we were slowly working up to that. We spent most of our time trying to make each other laugh, making vague comments about our attraction, or simply learning about each other. She didn't like talking about James, or guys in general around me, which is understandable since I represent rainbows and sunshine and all that crap to her and every other guy she's been with has apparently become a less than desireably memory. We were going to get around to it eventually, though. Because she needed to completely heal so I could put my lips on her.

The urge to kiss her grew every single second I was in the same general proximity of her. She wanted it, too, I could see that. But right before I'd think that we'd reached the moment I could touch her again fear would flash through her eyes and the moment would end.

Pretending I didn't want to worship every inch of her was getting to me, though. I was iritated and sick of sleeping far away from her, and growing more and more worried that she wasn't ever going to let me past this strange relationship purgatory we'd entered into. The only people that knew about our odd, no touching, high attraction, unconventional relationship were Emmett and his demon lady. Apparently Bella goes to her girlfriends for advice or to brag about how pretty she thinks I am, or something, and it's trickled into Emmett's world, too. He's quite supportive of Bella and I getting together, so it's worked out well for me.

My only real goal since the night I first propsed to Bella a few weeks ago, though, has been to get through every day with her as swiftly as possible, with as much happiness and mirth as I can muster while she kept consistenly _not _agreeing to marry me. Or at least to make it as swiftly as possibly to the day we can move on from this "pretend" stage.

But marriage was my ultimate solution to this messed up not-relationship she'd conned me into.

Then, you see, we can finally have some real commitment and go on being merrily tied together in holy matrimony for all eternity.

Because God knows I'm not letting Bella go even in the after life. No way.

I meant it 100 percent the first time I asked her to be my wife. And also every time after that.

So far I've asked her around 18 times, and she's either ignored me or straight up refused every time.

Once, the third time I believe, I bought her flowers and got down on one knee, doing the whole traditinal she-bang, except I didn't have a ring yet because I don't want to pick one out without her in case she doesn't like what I get. She of course refused, but took the flowers and set them in vase and arranged them very carefully, making me believe that they are special to her, reminding her of a time she almost broke down and said yes.

A guy can dream.

The 7th time I asked her to marry me I used my artsy wiles. I finsihed the painting of Newton's magical gazeebo, presenting it to her with a card attached, the contents of which detailed how we could get married under the depicted lighted dome and force Newton to throw a classy part for once: our reception. That was one of the proposals she straight up ignored, tucking the card into a drawer after reading it, shooting me the look that meant she didn't approve. Five minutes later she asked meto help her hang the painting over her bed.

But my favorite so far has been time number eleven. I had started using the front door to enter her apartment about three weeks before this specific proposal, but that day I climbed her tree again and carved "marry me?" into the trunk right outside of her window. When she let me into the room, asking what the hell I was doing back in the damn tree, I simple pointed outside towards the indented words and waited for her reaction. It caught her by surprise, I could tell, and she took a small step closer to the window before shaking her head slightly and sighing. We slept with the blinds closed that night.

I always feel the need to propose right after she does something truly wonderful, which is why I've had to propose so often. It's usually something no one else could really understand, but it's all stuff that matters to me. She lets me read her Rolling Stone magazines first, she's started making hazelnut coffee for me even though she prefers regular, she knows who the MC5 are, she always looses her keys and always finds them in one of three of the same places, she played the trumpet for 5 days in 5th grade and still has it with her in her closet.

Just these _things_ I find out everyday make me want to have her as my own.

It's unhealthy and weird, but it's undeniable and real. And I think sometimes she feels the same way about me, she's just to fucking scared of everything to admit it.

So I don't stop. I can't stop. Hard, and fast, and direct. She's not getting anything else from me.

Plus, I have hope. The other night she sat very close to me as we hung out and I educated her about Chuck Berry, another artist right up there with Muddy. Her left leg ran down the side of my right. Clearly we both had pants on, so there was no skin on skin action, but it was exquisite none-the-less.

That night I proposed right after she scooted next to me. I'd just turned to her and said, "Bella, will you marry me? Please say yes this time."

No dice. It was the one time she'd actually laughed at me.

And I've observed something. All 18 times, she always turns kind of red, and always blinks a few extra times right after I ask it, and always, _always_ almost smiles right after she turns me down, so I'm definitely making progress, or at the very least amusing her.

Plus, one of these days she_ is_ going to say yes. Even if I have to ask it everyday for the next 10 years.

Sweet Jesus, please don't make me ask every day for the next 10 fucking years...

"I suppose I can play nice for a while," I sighed, tugging on the leather vest I was wearing.

We'd already come so far in just two short months. I didn't want to consciously throw that away just because I tend to be _slightly_ more passionate about things than most people.

"Nice, man?" Jasper chuckled behind me. "There's no nice happening here. You're still going to give him shit. I can tell. You're eyes are all..." he opened his permantly squinted blue eyes as wide as he could get them and then lifted his hands up in front of his face and wiggled his fingers,"... _feitsy_."

I smirked. I _was _fesity. Defending my possession - uh, _affection_ - for Bella made me many things, feisty definitely being one of them.

"Well, right now me being feisty _is_ me being nice to him. The alternative is punching him in his Little Big Horn."

I took off towards where Bella, Jess, Newton, the two douches from Newton's store that never brought any liquour or money to the parties, some guy named Sam that was also and Indian, and the Indian of the Hour himself were standing.

Jasper waltzed right up in between Jake and his long haired friend and threw an arm around them both lazily. It threw me off, because we were certainly not here to make friends with the tribe, but then I realized he'd probably forgotten what we came over here for. Poor Jasper's memory cells had been smoked out years ago, I'm sure, and now he didn't really retain things that he didn't find absolutely necessary. And usually those "necessary" things were the seclect few subjects:

- Any fact I had about Alice

- Chuck Berry's entire musical catalog

- Where to get good orange chicken

- Weed

Everything else came and went as he deemed appropriate.

He was so great.

"Jasper!" Bella greeted happliy, her voice distracting me for a second because it had moved up swiftly into my list of Top 10 Most Favorite Sounds Ever, tied with Muddy, select 60's guitarist's magic creations, and Merry Clayton's voice on The Stones' song "Gimme Shelter".

Bella and Jasper were getting along splendidly, thank God. Things would be easier for Alice and I if our soul mates were cool with each other.

I threw Bella a smile and a wink that made her blush. I thought by now, after a all of the consecutive nights of me sleeping in her room and spending hours talking and laughing with each other she'd be immune to some of my charms. This was not the case, however, much to my amusement and satisfaction. I wanted to get under her skin every single moment, even if I couldn't actually touch it. I wanted to remind her that I wanted her, badly, even in she couldn't handle that reality right this second.

I tore my eyes away from Bella and directed my attention to the problem at hand, nudging Bella's handsy admirer on the arm roughly to get his attention.

"Oh. Hey, Edward," Jake greeted me curtly.

This was the first time we'd been around each other since I came back to town. Emmett had introduced us when I first got here, before Bella came back from Pheonix and I ever even knew she existed. Jacob had never really appealed to me, honestly. In the handfull of hangouts Alice and I had come to before she went back to Chicago he and I always said a quick hello and nothing much more. I think I complimented his tattoos once, just cause it's pretty bold to get something done on your hands.

Now, though, we clearly had some real tension between us.

We hadn't been around each other this entire time because Newton had gone on some sort of business trip for a month and a half, putting a hault in the parties this group had. No one else had enough room to host anything worthwhile, and Jess didn't trust letting herself open up the condo to the public while Newton was out of town. Apparently she had her hands full enough taking care of Pancakes. And doing whatever the hell else it is that she does. No one ever really seems to be sure.

So here we were, reunited with Jacob and his hands once again. Bella told me she was going to end "everything" with him before tonight, and I believed her. Especially now as I looked into his black Cherokee eyes. He was pissed. At _me_. Because I was made for her and he was not, and now he knew it.

As much as that fact pleased me, it still wasn't keeping him from putting his hands on her every chance he got.

"Hey. Can we have a little pow-wow?"

His brow raised, probably due to my wanting to talk with him or my use of Indian slang, or both. He nodded once and I held my hand out like the gentleman I was raised partly to be, smiling sweetly at him as he proceeded into the next room I was gesturing towards.

I turned to walk after him but something hit my back, stopping me.

When my head snapped around to where I had just been standing Bella was there silently staring at me, holding the second half of the cookie she'd apparently just mamed in order to get my attention. Rosalie was behind her, also kind of staring at me with a disapproving look on her face. It was hard to take her seriously in her Little Red Riding Hood costume, though. Hell, it's hard to take any girl in a 2 inch skirt and knee highs seriously. Especially when it's all topped off by a tiny cape.

"Be nice," Bella mouthed to me, distracting me with the way her lips moved smoothly due to her effort to silenly annunciate efficiently.

I rolled my eyes and turned back around, then lifted my hand up for a backwards little wave when she yelled after me, "I mean it!"

I entered Newton's office and closed the door behind me, ready to get my warning on.

"This is where Bella and I usually go to make out," Jacob blurted before I even had a chance to turn around and face him.

I froze and glared at the door.

Then turned towards him slowly and I very carefully corrected him, reminding myself that it was best to keep this controlled.

"Correction. This is where you and Bella _used _to make out. As in past tense. As in not anymore. As in not ever again."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Because her lips belong to me now, that's how."

That upset him. He tried to hide it, but I could see it because I've always been good at reading people.

"Oh, I bet she loves this whole possessive thing you've got going on. That's why she fell for James, too."

Ok, Mr. Tomahawk was treading in deep water. And I was a great white fucking shark circling him.

"Look, I don't want to talk about James-"

"You don't want to, or you can't because Bella hasn't told you the story yet?"

Seriously?

I almost punched the pool table in half. I really almost did. He was pushing it, and I've got a short fuse as it is, and this was supposed to be a nice fucking conversation where I threatened to chop off his hands and he politely realized that Bella was now off limits. The only reason I kept as calm as I did in that moment, was because I knew he was _trying_ to push me and I didn't want him to have the satisfaction.

"I don't want to talk about him anyway, he doesn't have anything to do with you and I."

He snorted loudly and threw his feet onto the edge of the pool table. My mother would hate this kid. No manners.

"So she doesn't trust you, clearly."

"You know what, Pocahantas? I didn't assemble this little meeting for a discussion about your faulty perceptions of my relatoinship with Bella. All I wanted to do was pull you aside and kindly ask that you stay the fuck away from her. She doesn't want to _be_ with you anymore, not in anyway that involves your hands or mouth or your _any_thing, so just stop touching her and we'll be cool. Capiche?"

I was all serious business, from my toes into the tips of my teeth, but he was still just sitting there with his arms crossed, smiling like an idiot.

"That's her decsion to make, don't you think, caveman?"

"It's my understanding that she's already told you things were over."

"Yeah, she did. But we've gone through this song and dance before, and she never really means it so I've stopped taking it seriously."

"First of all, that's inconsiderate to the lady. Second, this time is different-"

"No, Edward, it's not. She's always attracted to your type, and she always gets over it-"

"No. You don't know shit. We're dating now, and it's serious. So you putting your hands on her just isn't right anymore."

Shit shit shit, I lied. Did good guys who wanted to be with Bella lie? Probably not. They could have wing men that they used solely on her, sure. But I bet they could not lie to the kid she used to fool around with. And still sees regularly.

I couldn't help it though. In my mind we _were_ dating, even if she wouldn't officially agree to it. Hell, in my mind we were one person that accidentially got split into two and now should be spending all of our time trying to become one again.

But I probably shouldn't have lied.

Still, the alternative was playing pool with his eyeballs, so perhaps this _was_ the "good guy" route. Comparitavely.

"You're dating Bella?" he asked skeptically.

Not if you ask her...

"Yep."

"Since when?"

"Tuesday."

My answers were clipped. I'm not usually liar, it's something I find entirely unappealing, so I was out of practice with it but this was important. I watched him as he sat there and thought about my words. Being nervous isn't really something I ever experience, so I didn't allow myself to fret over whether or not he was buying my story. I was pretty ready for him to just accept my lie and move on.

"Well, then, we'll see how long _that _lasts," he finally answered with a snorted laugh.

Was this guy serious?

"It's going to last _forever_. I'm not fucking around here, Jacob. You're going to keep your hands to yourself from now on, because it's not right to touch another guy's girl."

He thought about that one for a second, his dark brow bunching up.

"Wait... _you_ haven't touched her all night."

"What?"

Shit shit shit, Indians have stealthy senses. I forgot to take that into account.

"You haven't touched her once all night. Believe me, I've been watching. Ever since you got into town and she met you I've been watching, and I know what I've seen tonight, and it isn't much. If you were dating then you'd be touching. A lot. Bella's _very_ hands on," he finished suggestively, unknowingly taunting me with imagery of how hands on she could be, but wouldn't be with me.

I took a deep breath in, holding it all together.

I needed Jasper. I was getting too worked up, and he always calmed me down but he hadn't followed me in here, of course.

It's ok, though. I was a big boy and he was probably off getting high somewhere, happy as a faded clam.

"We're taking things slow," was my shit response.

"Right."

"Don't use that tone with me, like I'm lying or something. It's offensive."

"You're story doesn't add up, dude. Even if you are lying about dating, which I'm 99 percent sure you are, you clearly want her. So it still makes no sense. If you want her so badly, and she's so into you as well, then why aren't you all over her, too?"

"Look, it doesn't really matter whether or not Bella and I are dating, ok? You just need to back off of her, because she doesn't need any more confusing shit in her life as it is. She's like a huge contradiction of herself; so fucking afraid of being alone but also hurrendously terrified of letting people get too close."

I let out a frustrated sigh with my words, mistakenly letting him see how wound up I was.

"So that's why you aren't really dating yet, she's afraid of you."

"She's not afraid of me, she's just being careful. And as far as you're concerned we are dating. You don't know what she's like-"

"I _know_ what Bella's like-"

"Then leave her alone. Maybe I don't touch her, but that's between her and I, and she does want to be with me. You say you know her, and maybe you do, but you're not the one she falls asleep talking to. You're not the guy she cooks breakfast for almost every morning, complaining the whole time even though she clearly loves it because she always, always has ingredients for something new and delicious stocked up. She hasn't hijacked half of your wardrobe to sit around and smell or some shit like that, and she certainly doesn't keep your favorite pair of shoes sitting neatly right next to hers on her fucking bedroom floor. She doesn't want you in a real way, Jacob. The sooner you realize that, the better."

I was breathing sort of heavy by this point, and actually pointing my finger at him, channeling all of my rage into one digit. The images of him and her on that couch, touching, and kissing, and moaning... it messed with my calm and for some odd reason was all that I could picture as I ranted on about all of the things that were making me even crazier about my perfect girl. Serene I was not, not that being calm was _ever _my strong point, but Jasper had been trying to help me find my "calming source". Whatever the hell that was, I still wasn't sure. I got bored and distracted every time he tried to teach me.

For a second we just stood there, me towering over him with my finger of truth, and him sort of scowling up at me. He heaved a giant Indian sigh and then the idiotic smile returned to his face.

"Edward, I don't have many reasons besides this one conversation not to like you, so I'm not going to hit you. _Yet_. But this grand protector act isn't going to work. Not on me and not on Bella. We weren't just fuck buddies until you came along, we were really good friends. And we still are. Our friendship is _normal _and it is definitely real, no matter what you want to believe. It involves touching and intimacy on a level she apparently hasn't let you get to yet, even if you do leave your crap all over her room. I can't deny that she's into you right now. But once she gets over this bizarre infatuation she has with you, and I assure that's all this is, you'll realize that you don't know the real her at all. She'll push you away and come back down to the real world. And I'll be here waiting here, just like I was before, ready to embrace her."

"Not if I break your arms off first."

That was probably the last thing I remember of my pow wow with Jacob Black.

**xXx xXx xXx**

I woke up at a very inopportune time. Right when my head was attempting to split itself into two.

"Are you awake?" a very bored tone of Bella's asked me.

I hadn't opened my eyes yet, but I think I had made a small noise pertaining to my level of discomfort.

I cracked one eye open slowly, hating the light that was assauting my retinas.

"Fuck, it's bright in here."

I snapped my eye shut and threw my arm over both of them just to be sure I wasn't assaulted again. I heard a click and could actually feel it go dark in the room.

"The lights are off now, if you want to try again."

She still sounded bored, which bothered me. I may have been sleeping, but she should never, ever be bored around me. I've watched her sleep dozens of times and have never gotten bored of the sight. What was wrong with her?

"I'm worried it'll still be too bright."

"In the dark?" she asked, disbelieving.

"My head also feels like it's trying to recreate the big bang."

She did the cute little snort noise she does sometimes when she thinks I've said something ridiculous. Once, about the 6th time I asked her to marry me, she made this noise when I proposed by telling her a knock knock joke.

It was a little upsetting to hear this time, though, because the pounding in my head was negating everything that normally made me happy.

"I brought some aspirin and Rose donated the rest of her Fiji water since you don't seem to have anything other than cigarettes and hot pockets laying around here."

"Aspirin might help," I mumbled, ignoring everything else past that beautiful thought of hope.

"You can have it if you attempt to sit up."

I shook my head slightly. Sitting up sounded wholly discomfortable.

"You won't even try?"

"Bella, I'm seriously scared that moving any part of me will result in my head bursting into a trillion pieces."

"Come on, be brave and open your pretty little eyes."

The words were sweet enough, but she was mocking me. And she was clearly unhappy, not playfully teasing like we'd grown used to being with each other. This was the tone she used when she was talking about people who deface library books or anything that reminded her of Douche James. This was her seriously upset tone.

That scared me more than my head cracking in half. What could I have done to earn this?

"Edward, are you seriously not even going to try and sit up?"

"I think you're mad at me," I ventured, pushing that to the forefront of importance.

"Oh, you think?"

Uh-oh. Sarcasm. Really not a good sign.

"Why?"

She laughed a little bit. The sound was low and female and still sort of unhappy. I kind of liked it, though. Probably because I couldn't see the rest of her glaring angrily, even though I could feel this unhappiness directed towards me.

"Can't you remember the stupidest things you ever done? Even though your head feels like it's going to fall off?"

"Ha. I can remember the Top 10 Stupidest Things I've Ever Done, 80 percent of which you know nothing about. And my head's not going to _fall off_, Bella. That would be preferable, actually. Then I wouldn't have to be worried about how it's going to burst into a tri-"

"You punched my best friend, Edward. For no good reason. And he retaliated by smashing your head into Mike Newton's pool table."

My mouth was still forming the last word I'd been trying to say when she cut me off. The instant her sentence ended it all came flooding back to me and that didn't help my open mouth situation.

The Indian and his sticky hands. The pow-wow in the office. His stupid accusation that I was only an infatuation for Bella, and that she'd leave me eventually and run back to him and his arms that I may still need to break...

"Do you remember?" she asked impatiently.

Then it hit me.

_"You punched my best friend, Edward."_

I sat up and my eyes were most definitely open now. My head was screaming at me to lay the fuck back down and go comotose again, but screw that because I was having a mild panic attack.

"What do you mean 'best friend'?"

"What?"

She was sitting in my old black leather recliner that I had pictured her in a thousand times, except I'd always pictured her lounging in one of my old shirts or curled up with me. Not like she was now, still in her halloween costume with mad eyes and a stiff structure.

I ran my hand down my face and stared at her, trying to even out my breathing. I tried to level it out along with the pounding pulsing my skull as I searched for a reason not to tear the pillows apart.

"You just said that Jake was your best friend."

"He is."

Fuck.

"Fuck."

My eyes closed but it brought me no relief this time.

"Why is that such a big problem for you? Oh, right. Because you attacked him."

"Not now, Bella."

"Yes, Edward! Now! What the hell is your problem? He's never done anything to you, yet you took it upon yourself to be as rude as possible to him. Why would you do that?"

This situation was not ideal. I recognized that, and I wanted it to end, but fuck, I couldn't get any words out at the moment. The combonation of my hurting head, my fuzzy memories of Jacob Black taunting me about Bella letting him touch her instead of me, and my mortification that he was her best friend was beyond frustrating. It was rendering me speechless, which was completely unusual before I met Bella Swan, but now seemed to be something I was going to have to learn to deal with on some sort of regular basis.

"Answer me, Edward. I know your head hurts, but you could have avoided this whole thing by not being a self indulgent, over reactive idiot."

Of course she'd take his side. He wasn't just some guy she thought was attractive enough to mess around with when she was lonely like I thought he was. I hadn't seen it before, but I was getting the picture now. He was her best fucking friend that she occasionally blurred the lines with physically probably because it felt safe to her. Honestly, there was no way I could have known that before I decided to tell him to back off of her. Yes, Bella and I had spent a lot of time together in the past few weeks, but we'd carefully avoided the subject of the tee-pee dweller the entire time.

I'd taken that to mean that the whole set up was done. Over. Finito.

But, no. He was the best friend.

And now I was just some prick that punched him.

"Refusing to talk to me isn't going to get you out of an explanation, Ed-"

"I didn't know he was your best friend," I offered lamely, still sad over the revelation that he was actually important to her.

I still had my eyes closed, so I can't be certain, but she didn't say anything for a few seconds so I imagined she was sitting there staring at me blankly due to lack of enthusiasm in defending myself.

"You still shouldn't have been an ass to him," she finally said sharply, still very angry. "He didn't deserve that."

"I didn't like that he was touching you," I replied with more force than I was aware I was capable of.

Another moment of silence passed. I don't think she expected that. Well, maybe she did because touching was such a huge non-part of our relationship, but I don't think she expected me to come out and admit that's why this whole thing started.

"So you just punched him to make yourself feel better?"

"No. I tried talking to him, but that didn't go over so well. He's not exactly the little angel you seem to want him to be, so when he refused to stop pushing my buttons I snapped, all right?"

"It's not all right. I know he can be difficult sometimes, but damn, Edward. You _attacked_ him. Can't you just control yourself? His nose is broken, and he's not even talking to me right now."

I could hear the sadness in her voice, and I should have been sensitive to it. But my pounding head only really registered one thing.

"He's not talking to you?"

"Of course that makes you happy-"

"I'm sorry, I missed the part where I said anything about being happy right now."

Damn, she could see how happy that made me.

"Right. The fact that Jake and I aren't speaking right now doesn't make you even a little bit happy? Mr. Ego doesn't find it appealing that he came between Jake and I?"

I shrugged my shoulders in response and pulled on my hair, attempting to pull the fucking _pound pound pound_ out through it's roots. I promised I'd never lie to her so I couldn't completely deny the fraction of joy this news brought me in the midst of this shit storm. Plus, I already sort of fibbed about dating her to her precious best friend, so I decided now would be the shittiest time ever to go back on my word.

I did not want to be dealing with this while my head murdered itself from the inside out.

I wanted Alice to be here, making me potato soup like only she knows how, playing me the Mahavishnu Orchestra album that always makes me feel better when my head hurts from a hangover. But Alice was still playing "prove Edward wrong" and was holding out on moving, even though mom told me the other day that she'd been drinking Seattle's Best instead of Starbucks, and for Alice that was a sign of preference. I told Jasper she'd be here by Thanksgiving, if not sooner.

I wanted Bella to be my friend again, and whatever the heck more she was to me without there being any sort of title. I wanted her to not be mad at me but instead blushing at me over something suggestive I said to her.

I sighed/groaned and flopped onto my side, back onto the couch, opening an eye to take a peek at her.

Arms crossed, long legs crossed, eyes narrowed, hair an absolute gorgeous mess.

I wanted to tell her she looked fucking beautiful and silly in her Star Trek dress and red ugg boots. I wanted to crawl over to her and wrap my arms around her waist and bury my head into her lap and nuzzle her until she forgave me. That was my instinct, but that was off limits.

Instead I all but gave up for now, knowing that with the way my head was working against the rest of my body I'd never be able to focus enough to win her favor any time soon. She was too Team Indian right now to be reasonably talked to anyway.

"I don't really know what you want me to say, Bella. I'm sorry I hurt your friend, but he did a number on me, too, if you haven't noticed. And right now I can't really find the motivation to move my body or defend myself against your _besty_, ok? You've clearly already chosen sides."

"I haven't chosen sides, I just can't believe that you would actually forbid him from having interaction with me-"

"Really, Bella? You can't believe that? You know me! You know how I feel about you, and how I react to things I care about-"

"I didn't know you'd go batshit crazy about my friend hanging out with me!"

I laughed bitterly out loud.

"Yeah, your _friend_," I replied dryly. "Your friend that touches you every chance he get and that you used to let stick his tongue in your mouth, and all over God knows where else."

I cringed at my words, knowing that they were both hurtful and tactless, but an exploding head will do that to you. Besides, it's not like it wasn't true.

And, repeat after me class: I had promised to always be 100 percent honest with Bella.

"I can't be here anymore," she said suddenly.

Her voice was watery and still low, leading me to believe that she was near tears.

My one eye opening again to take a peek at her confirmed it. Her eyes were moist and her lip quivering just slightly. She was now gathering her things- a coat and a purse - and walking out of the door.

"If you wait until I feel a little bit better, you can stay and we can talk about this rationally. Figure it out," I offered.

I didn't want her to be crying, and I certainly didn't want her leaving, but I felt so defeated by the last 10 minutes that this was the best I could offer her at the moment. I was almost certain she'd still storm out but I wanted to offer it anyway. I knew her enough by now to know that she made rash decsions in the heat of the moment of being hurt. It was something she didn't exacly like about herself but clearly wasn't changing despite what she led herself to believe.

"I think, maybe, I'm going to go figure some things out on my own," she replied softly, sounding like every damn Hallmark movie ever made where the female lead finally decides to give up on what was previously making her happy.

"If that's some cryptic way of you telling me that you're thinking about being done with me, I'm not accepting it," I spoke into the couch, still in too much pain to sit up and run after her, but needing her to know that I wasn't going to be her co-star in a cheese-fest break up scene. I can't handle that cryptic shit. Girls like to do that _so_ much. It's one of the reasons I can't handle most of them for very long.

"I'm leaving the aspirin and the water here for you. Take them so you're head feels better."

I heard her boots clunk their way to the front door, I heard her fumble with the lock, drop something, pick it up and sniffle, and then close the door behind her.

I wanted to scream and break shit. I wanted to sit at my window and drink something strong and stare at the street until I figured out how to make this all better. I wanted to run down the hall after Bella and wrap my arms around her and squeeze everything too tight and then take her right there in the hallway. Not to be crude or posessive, but because I was so fucking ready to touch her all over I just wasn't sure that if I started touching her, no matter where we were, I'd be able to stop myself before I _showed_ her how much I wanted her.

I wanted to call Alice and cry and tell my dad that girls were too difficult to deal with, but I found one that made me want to deal with it I just didn't know how. I wanted my mother to ruffle my hair and say something about getting it cut, because maybe then I'd attract nice girls.

I didn't even take the aspirin becuase I couldn't find the will to move from the couch. I probably deserved the pounding in my head anyway.

And now I knew, Jacob Black definitely deserved to have his arms broken. Or at least his ties to Bella. Out of all the things I wanted, I couldn't think of anything that would satisfy me more.

* * *

**What makes you feel satisfied?**

**Also, small disclaimer: I don't have anything against Indians. I promise. My dad's side is Spanish Indian, so it's in my heritage. Edward's just touchy on the subject of Jake, and these are his thoughts. They'd be like this if Jake were Irish, or British, or Eqyptian, or straight up pale white boy like him. So please don't be offended, it's not meant to stereotype or anything. It's all in good Egoward fun :)**

**I'm thinking the POV will mostly go back and forth from now on. I hope that works for everyone because I think it's going to help me. And that's how I'm doing it anyway, hehe ;)**

**Thanks for reading!**

**LOVE YOUS**

**-Car**


	6. Poker Face

**CHAPTER 6 - Poker Face**

_"Baby when it's love, if it's not rough it isn't fun"_

- Lady Gaga "Poker Face" (Let it be known that I will only ever endorse the piano ballad version of this song!)

**Bella**

I sat silently, my foot tapping relentlessly under the table. Jake was across from me shoving eggs into his mouth and yammering on and on about some sort of family reunion his father was trying to organize for Christmas or Thanksgiving. Or Kwanza or something.

I was having a hard time listening.

I didn't want to space out on him. I usually never did. Usually I was centered on him, reliant on him. grateful for the ease of being with him.

Of course that had all changed when Edward Cullen entered my life. Everything had changed, in a way.

I was here, at breakfast with my unsuspecting friend, for a specific purpose. I had to inform Jake that the _thing_ between us had changed, or, rather, had to be changed officially. Whatever I had going on with Edward was almost two months deep by this point and I'd accidentially failed to notify Jake that it meant a cease of my, um, relationship benefits with him.

He was going to be well aware today, though. He and I were going back to friendship. Strict, no kissing, no blurred lines friendship. I was fine with it; ready for it. I had Edward, after all.

Jake, however... well, I was certain he would not be so easily willing to return to platonicness.

But it was now the morning of Halloween, and of course the big party at Mike's, so I had to bite the bullett and set things straight. Thanks to Mike being out of town for the past few weeks I've had a nice window of time where there was no reason for Jake and Edward to be in the same building together, which meant that I didn't have to worry about having this conversation. If the two of them were never around me at the same time then I didn't have to worry about a confrontation due to the unconventional relationships I had with both of them.

Jake and I had hung out a few times in the past month or so because it's always been like that. We regularly grab a meal or a movie on a random week night, but lately I've made sure that it was always with other people and always when Edward was at work. I wasn't hiding my relationship with Jacob from him exactly. I just understood that Edward would not like hearing about our closeness, platonic or not.

Jake's my best friend so I defintely still had a desire to spend time with him. But, while it's true that I haven't crossed the lines of friendship with him ever since the night Edward came back to Seattle, I haven't exactly been clear with him that things were over either.

Until now.

"Bella, this is the fifth time I've picked up your napkin. What's up with you today? _Distracted_ again?"

Jake's tone changed in an unamused manner when he asked abouy my being distracted. Jake had taken a rather large disliking towards that word ever since we'd associated it with Edward.

This was another reason why I've taken this long to bring this up. As much as Edward and I don't talk about Jake, Jake always wants to discuss Edward with me. And I always change the subject. Don't get me wrong, I could rave about Edward all day if someone would let me. The only trouble with that is the fact that the only person who probably _would_ let me is Edward himself, and God forbid we inflate the ego even further. The boy is great, no doubt. But he could learn a lesson or two about humility.

Upsetting people makes me uncomfortable and every time Jacob mentions Edward his eyes get agitated and his right fist sort of scrunches up so I've avoided it.

Until today.

"Yeah, I guess I am," I answered honestly and seriously, turning his teasing smile into a very sublte curve of disapproval.

"What, is Edmund behind me with his shirt off or something?" he asked me in a vile tone that I didn't appreciate, though I almost thanked him for that mental image.

"Jacob, stop it," I reprimanded him weakly. His favorite thing to do these days is to bosh Edward's name. I've heard Edmund a couple hundred times, as well as Edwin, Edwit, and Edbert.

Yes, he got a little creative once in a while but it still annoyed me, and he knew it.

I took a sip of water just to hold off on my task for a moment longer. I almost thanked him for a perfect segway into what I had to say.

"I do need to talk to you about Edward, though."

"Why? What did he do to you now?"

I felt a little bit alarmed at how excited and rigid Jacob seemed to get as his inadvertent accusation left his lips.

"What? Nothing. Settle down. He's great-" I began to ramble, showing my slight nerves.

A doubtful snort cut me off. I sighed. This was going to be just as much fun as I imagined it being.

Zero.

"Are you still seeing him a lot?" he asked quickly, reminding me of how they tell you to rip off a band aid to avoid pain.

"Yes. That's mostly the reason we have to talk-"

"You dating him or something?" he asked with a small unhumorous laugh, avoiding my gaze as he pushed around the last reamining pieces of food on his plate.

Crrap, he was not happy at all. And he was jumping to conclusions, which wasn't good. When Jake gets like this he usually doesn't listen very well. And I needed him to hear me out.

"No, we're not dating... exactly. It's nothing official, at least. I see him everyday, though. And I like it. So, you know..."

"No, Bella. I don't know. Please spell it out for me," he masochisticly pleaded, tightly and with hard eyes.

"Jake, I actually don't really know what's going on with Edward and I. Yes, I like him a lot. Yes, I like spending time with him-"

"He's not your boyfriend?"

"Well, no-"

"But you want him to be?"

"I don't know?"

"What? What kind of a bull shit answer is that? You either want him or you don't."

I'd never had him speak to me like this before. Like I was stupid child he had to reprimand and educate. He had no idea how complicated my situation with Edward was for me.

Maybe it was all due to how messed up I let my insides get over Jake, but that's not something I could avoid at this point.

"This isn't cut and dry for me," I started to explain, my own voice growing as stern as his had. "I like spending time with him, but I'm not sure I want anything... serious right now."

I was trying to make this as basic as possible to get it over with, but it was proving more difficult than I realized it would be. How do you explain what Edward and I have and then, on top of that, the atypical stipulations my insecurities have created?

"Don't you trust the pretty boy?" he asked sarcastically.

"I do, actually."

He laughed loudly. Still unhumorously and slightly menacingly.

"Really? Have you told him about James?"

I felt my body draw back infentesimally at the name, but only due to the way in which Jake spat it out. Of course he had bad memories of what I was like after James, too. But he'd never really revealed this much venom when he mentioned him before.

"It hasn't come up," I lied, trying my hardest to avoid this subject and every shitty thing I related to it.

"I'm calling BS on this, Bells. And I'm telling you right now _not_ to trust him."

"You don't even know him," I defended quickly, feeling oddly protective of Edward.

"Sure I do! I may not know his specifics, but I guarentee that he's no good, Bells. The guy is a wanderer, a fraud. I know about those kind just fine."

"Seirously, Jake, I'm not going to sit and listen to this," I warned, feeling something wounded thing inside of me grow dark because it, too, believed what Jacob claimed he saw. That Edward couldn't be real. It was all an act.

"He's cocky and only going after you because you're a challenge-"

"I'm not listening to this."

But I was. And it was horrible. His black tone was growing dimmer each time a new syllable hit my ears. I didn't want to listen to it but that's only because I didn't want to believe it. So I went with my instincts and fought it.

"You're a prize to him, Bella. That's _it_. I can tell. He just wants to claim you, not love you-"

"Jacob Black-"

"And right when he gets what he wants from you, his prize, he'll be gone-"

"You don't kno-"

"Just like James. Who never really loved you eith-"

"Jacob, stop it!"

I sort of slammed my hand on the table, surprising both of us as well as the elderly couple sitting a few feet away.

With a bashful glance at them, I reached across the table and grabbed Jacob's hand to calm and remind myself that he was warm, and real, and my friend that was just looking out for me even though he was being a jackass about it.

He clung to me when our hands touched, as if desperate for the connection. I suppose that may have been due to the fact that I've avoided any sort of physical contact between us for the past two months. It just felt wrong in a way; letting Jacob touch me while Edward couldn't.

"I don't like the way you're talking to me and I'm going to get up and leave if you don't cut it out right now. First of all, it's not really any of your business what my relationship with Edward is like-"

"I'm just trying to look out for you," he argued, gripping my hand tighter, desperately, as his tone switched from dark to determined.

"That's fine, I appreciate that, but you are crossing a line. Don't talk to me like that. It hurt."

I spoke clearly, steadily, pleading him with my eyes to drop the "tough love" act, or whatever the hell he was trying to pull.

He nodded his head and looked down at the table for a second, possibly composing himself. I wanted to yell at him, telling him he was horrible for badgering me in the way he had, but at the same time I was too afraid he was right to grow completely angry.

Still, I had an odd trust in Edward as well. I was keeping my frustrating distance from him for a reason, the reasons Jake just harshly pointed out. But despite that Edward was still around, taking what he could get from me, which wasn't much past craving looks and teasing words.

Jacob's eyes were still hard but his grip on my hand softened and became more familiar. More like I was used to it being. I almost hated myself for the senstion causing my mind to wonder what Edward's hand would feel like wrapped around mine. I couldn't help it. Every little thing made me think about him, reinforcing the fact that I didn't want to believe the hurtful things Jacob was accusing him of being.

My mouth began lifting at the corners, revealing the turn my thoughts had taken in the past second. It was so easy for me to get lost in Edward La-La-Land.

I wasily got lost in my imagination, picturing him here. I saw him walking down the street, bronze hair wonderfully astray, hands tucked in the pockets of his brown coat, cigarette hanging from his mouth, rounding the corner and spotting my hand in Jacob's. Guilt flooded me and I slid my hand out of the dark skin of my friend's grip. Again, even without a title or an official declaration of my devotion to him, I felt a distinct need not to betray Edward.

Make believe moments like the one my mind just experienced were the reason why I had to set things straight with Jake. Edward always took over my mind, always sat there inside of it influencing my choices and moods. It scared me to death. It made me feel a little bit out of control. But it was my reality now, and even though I kept it a secret from Edward, kept him at arm's length, I couldn't ignore the fact that it was some dysfunctional form of commitment to him.

"Look, Jake. I don't want to fight with you. Especially not over a boy that I may or may not want to be my boyfriend. But you cannot treat me like this. I'm a big girl, I can make decisions, and I should not be berated for my feelings."

"I don't want to fight either, and I'm sorry for kinda freaking out," he began swiftly, throwing his words out apologetically before his eyes drew back up to mine and his face set back into a determined stare. "But you have to throw me a bone here," he continued,"There's no way I can just sit back and watch you be with another guy without feeling like I have a right to know what's going on. You're a huge part of my life, and, like it or not, what you do with this guy does kind of effect me."

He stared at me in an intense way. It was different from the way Edward liked to watch me, unblinking, but it made me just as uneasy.

"You're right. You do deserve an explanation, because of what I've let our friendship become over the past year-"

"Our relationship is great," he defended, a little bit of the darkness creeping back into the timbre of his voice.

"I agree, of course. Our friendship is amazing. I wouldn't change it for the world."

I hesitated with my choice of words. He caught it. We both also caught the fact that he kept using the term "relationship" while I repeatedly threw out "friendship". His hard eyes released some tension and pulled in a bit of pain. That moment, the one where his eyes grew sad, is the exact one I'd been dreading.

"But?" he asked knowingly.

"But I need it to be just a friendship again. Nothing more. No matter the reason."

Silently, his inky eyes watched me a little bit longer. He nodded carefully, more tenderly than I'd ever seen him be.

My heart ached. Not in relation to what I was giving up with Jake. It was because of what I was doing to him. We never spoke of it, but I would be lying if I didn't admit that I knew Jacob's feelings for me had grown past friendship. Rosalie threw it in my face every so often, and brushing it off in the way I did never resulted in it not being true like I always wished.

I never really wanted him past the physical, safe, comfort he gave me. Maybe I was selfish and naive to think that our arrangement worked perfectly for both of us. But he made me laugh and clasically held me as I cried, mostly during the James aftermath, and no one can blame me for adoring that. We always had fun together, no matter what, and I loved his devotion to his large family (probably because it was so different from my own cold relational climate with my own). He was so different from me, his interests rooted in mechanics and hiking and his culture, but we came together effortlessly.

He was my best friend and I hated doing this to him.

Jacob's chin lifted in the tiniest way, his resolve seemingly coming back. I felt a little bit of hope. I knew he wouldn't fight my wishes, but I wasn't sure about the amount of fight he would put up against this. I wasn't too eager to dive into detailed explanations of why I had to do this, either. Explaining that I coudln't kiss him anymore thanks to a boy I never even let brush my skin against his would just be... I just didn't want to do it.

"Whatever you want to do, Bells, I'll go along with it. I mean, I really don't have a choice, but besides that... you know that I love our friendship. And I don't want that to, you know, be sacrificed or anything. So whatever you want... we'll do that."

I gratefully nodded my head and bit my lip, wondering if he was telling me the truth about being ok with it. His eyes looked sincere enough. Guarded, but this had been a difficult conversation so that was understandable.

"Thank you," I breathed, a tiny bit relieved.

"Just so I know... this is all because of Edward, right?"

I hesitated again. Something inside of me constricted.

Of course my answer was "yes". And that answer would make it clear. Make it real. I was giving up elements of my life for a boy again. I wasn't sure what Jake would do with that information, but I know it made me apprehensive because of what happened last time.

"It's something I feel like I need to do in respect for my, um, closeness with Edward, yes. But I think this was coming anyway. I mean, we couldn't continue to just fool around forever, could we?"

"Guess not."

He shrugged a little bit, smiling in a way I'd never seen him smile before. The sunshine I usually found there was missing. It was false and completely wrong. I hated myself for letting things between us get blurred in the first place. I'd just wanted to feel safe. Wanted.

I reached out and grabbed his hand again, rationalizing that Edward was probably with Jasper somewhere by the bay painting or braiding each other's hair, or whatever it is they did together. He wouldn't walk down this street and see my skin cheating on his.

A little bit of fire re-lit itself in Jacob's smile. He entwined his fingers in mine, warming my digits. Comforting my guilt reguarding him.

"This is good. This way I'm not holding you back from all of the pretty girls that no doubt want to jump you," I said in an attempt to lighten the air around us.

"What makes you think I was turning down those girls before now?" he teased back, glancing down at our hands and then back up to me, growing more like himself with every passing second.

I snorted in mock disapproval and attempted to pull my hand away in an effort to up the dramatics of our jest. He laughed but didn't let go of me, instead pulling my arm further across the table.

"You're still my best friend," he said softly, suddenly turning serious and kind. "Know that, ok? You won't tell me all of what's going on with Edward, and that's your choice and all that crap. But if he fucks up, which, for the record I think he will, I'll always be here for you. I'm always gunna love you."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes at his mention of Edward messing up (I mean, honestly he was nothing but intense, imperfect perfection up until now, and leaving me would probably be a smart choice for him at this point) and just smiled instead.

"Yeah, Jake. Somehow I love you, too."

After a large breath he looked at me again, somber. "So, back to frienship again? Just like it was before you decided I was irresistable?"

This time I did roll my eyes playfully, happy to be back into a comfortable report with him. We could do this, no problem. He seemed comfortable with everything already.

"Yes, back to before I let you have pity feel ups."

We both laughed, he winked at me once, quickly, and then squeezed my hand before reluctantly letting it go.

**xXx xXx xXx**

"How the hell did you get him into that?" Jessica laughed, pointing at Emmett with the hand that wasn't holding Pancakes.

"Easy. The honey is whiskey. I promised to buy him that and not complain when he downed the entire thing instead of taking time to appreciate it. Plus, I threw in some sexual favors that I would go into detail about, but won't because Little Bella would probably toss her space cookies if I did."

Rosalie threw me a malicious smile, tossing her perfect blonde curls over her shoulder sassily. She was having a ball teasing me about my costume: a Star Trek dress. I don't know why she found_ me_ so amusing. Emmett was dressed like a giant fecking bear.

I chose the costume I did because it was easy, not slutty but short enough to show off my legs (which Edward frequently told me were "fucking lovely"), and the guy that played Spok in the new movie would be hot with a lip ring. Plus, the red dress matched my red ugg boots, which were too big for me but comfortable, and I was all about comfort.

"Bella, can you take Pancakes out for me?" Jess asked, eyeing my hand as I pulled out a clove I was obviously going to retreat outside to smoke. "I have to do damage control in the living room. Michael's letting Eric and Tyler dance on the fireplace again. I know you don't like him very much, but he's not annoying when he potties, I promise."

I scrunched up my nose as she pushed the ball of fur into my arms, not wanting to think about it pottying at all. At least he was small. She ran off right away, screaming something about the stone of the fireplace being imported from a foreign country.

Rosalie was gone already, having left me for greener pastures that didn't include the tiny dog she loathed more than anything in the world. None of us could figure out why she hated him so very much. The only reason she would give is that she wasn't a "dog person". Sometimes I don't think she's a real person, but I'm too scared of her to voice that opinion out loud.

I walked outside with Pancakes and set him down, smiling when Jake waved at me from across the lawn where he was standing with a few of his cousins that lived in Seattle as well. The only one I'd met before was Sam, who was a nice guy. I sat on the concrete ledge I usually sat on and lit up the clove. Jake and I were just like normal, just like we agreed to be. He hugged me when he arrived, teased me about my boots being too big for my feet, and then pulled my hair.

My thoughts immediately turned to Edward when Jake turned back to the group he was talking with. My annoyance at him not having a cell phone grew exponentially.

The last time I saw Edward was when he left my house early this morning before I had my uncomfortable faux break-up breakfast with Jake and I missed him. He said that he and Jasper were getting ready for the party together and that they would meet me here since I got here a few hours early to help Jess "set up" (which was really just doing some pre-party shots of Bicardi and dancing to Janis Joplin).

I wanted to call him and hear his voice. I wanted to know if they were close, or if I had to wait some unnecessary amount of time to see him. It was irrational that I felt this way, yes. But I've tried to control it and I can't. When I'm not with him, I want to be. When I am with him I'm scared to death of what he will say and do, but loving every single second of it at the same time.

I had no idea how to fix myself. Rosalie's been yelling at me to tell him my history with James. She thinks that if I open up to him "or some other sweet shit", as she put it, all of my hesitation will dissipate because then he'll be in the know and be accepting all of me and we can go on living, "happily fucking every after". Again, that's her specific phrasing.

The James story is the one piece of me I have left that Edward hasn't been able to steal from me. And as much as I'm dying to be with him in a real way, I'm pretending that I'm satisfied with the way things are now because giving in and revealing my insecurities regarding my past love life will mean that I have nothing left to hide from him. Nothing left that is just mine.

He says he won't walk away. But I've heard that before from someone who did. Someone I gave everything too, who then walked away with it, leaving me with nothing.

Jessica just thinks I'm insane for not accepting the bajillion marriage proposals I've gotten from him. She still loves to talk about her fantasies of being on the Edward Train. I still want to punch her in her pretty little throat when she talks about it.

The proposals.

That's a whole separate issue.

Edward and his proposals are... too much.

Except, they are also perfect.

It's almost getting hard to say no. I've started directly ignoring some of them just because they are _so_ perfect I'm afraid that if I start to decline my girl emotions will take over and I'll end up saying yes. And saying yes would be bad. Very, very bad.

If I marry him and he does leave me... well... I've experienced divorce first hand and it isn't pretty. Sure, my parents get along well now, and I see that they were certainly not meant to be together, but there have been some pretty shitty times for all of us because of it. All because they mistook lust and immature adoration for love when they were young. This was a mistake I was not willing to make.

Still, every proposal broke me down a little further. They are all so different, and unique, and just so full of Edward it makes me want to scream. And now the giant tree outside of my window was marked with his new three favorite words, serving as a daily reminder of the ferocity of Edward's persual of me.

I didn't understand it, and I couldn't accept it yet. But a big part of me wanted to. And, in classic me form, that scared the hell out of me.

I put the clove to my lips and sucked in lightly, letting the thick sweetness fill my senses, mixing with my thoughts of Edward Cullen. I wondered what his lips would taste like if I ever kissed him. I imagine they would be sweet. Maybe not in real life, but in my head his whole being was lined with deliciousness, so that's what I would taste when I finally pressed myself against him.

I closed my eyes against the thought, reprimanding myself for being so damn love-sick again and forcing myself to ignore the harsh pleasure that threatened to pulse through me when these sorts of thoughts took over.

"Don't look now, but a very attractive man is staring at you."

Everything in me hummed to life in the way it did only for _him_ and I was surprised that he was able to so quietly sneak up on me. I usually felt him before he was able to surprise me. I clutched my clove a little bit tighter, focusing my want for him on the two fingers wrapped around the small, sweet device.

"Well tell Jasper it's very rude to stare."

He shifted a little bit, sitting behind me on the concrete wall, warming my back with his careful closeness.

I felt his breath on my neck as he chuckled in his deep tones.

"I'm not referring to Jasper."

"Oh? Did you bring another friend then? Someone you can introduce me to?" I asked, keeping my eyes closed so I could pretend we were a normal, playfull couple for just a few moments longer.

His breath was hot and heavy and even closer than the moment before. He emmitted a low sound, not a chuckle this time, more like a nearly undetectable growl. I felt my back arch a tiny bit as I let him put his hands on my waist in the pretend world inside my head. The one that had progressed naturally from that first night. The one where I wasn't a scared, stupid little woman who couldn't handle how much she wanted this man.

"I've already told you, Isabella, I don't have any other friends," he spoke low, turning his head into my skin.

I shivered and imagined his lips resting where I could feel his breath.

"Then who could possibly be staring at me?" I asked, expecting one hundred percent for him to say himself and then do something ridiculous like propose casually or inform me how many girls were currently staring at him.

"Open your eyes."

His words were farther away from me in an instant, making me frown at the hindrance that put on my pretending his skin was touching mine.

I did as he said and opened my eyes to the real world.

And there was Pancakes on the ledge next to me, staring intently.

"Effing Pancakes?!" I asked incredulously. "That's the only man in the entire vacinity staring at me?"

"He's an attractive little fellow, is he not?" Edward teased as he chuckled and riskily reached over me to run his hand through the dog's soft fur.

"Eh, I'd still prefer Jasper."

"Who wouldn't?"

We both laughed and then Edward surprised me by reaching down and lifting my arm by the sleeve of my dress. He stole a drag from my clove, entrancing me with his lips touching the same spot mine had.

My whole arm lit on fire but I sat there calmly, pretending I was a normal 98.6 degrees or whatever the hell temperature humans are supposed to be when Edward Cullen isn't in their immediate proximity.

"You love your cloves," he commented softly, as if it were an intimate secret between us.

"Nothing sweeter," I managed to say through the Edward haze my mind had entered into.

"Hmm," he hummed softly, diverting his gaze from my eyes to my lips, "How can you be sure when you haven't tasted everything there is to offer?"

This time I wasn't able to respond. So much of me wanted to jump him. Old, implusive, irrational Bella would have done it. But now I had some vile thing in me acting as a restraint so I did nothing except for sit there and stare at him needily as I melted inside.

He took another small drag, thanked me and winked. Then he stood up and turned around, sticking his hands in the pockets of the dark brown leather vest he was wearing.

"Who do we have here?" I asked, giving him the once over with my eyes to assess his costume.

He looked just as good as ever, but not entirely made up. He wore black pants, a white T-shirt that was half tucked in, aforementioned brown vest, a red belt, and black boots.

He stepped over to the sliding glass door and called for Jasper who came running out lazily almost immediately.

"Lady Stella," he greeted with his classic bored drawl.

I nodded in response, smiling at the way Jasper refused to call me my real name.

"Bella wants to know who we are," Edward explained. "Clearly she can't guess one of us without the other."

They threw their arms around each other and looked at me expectantly.

I should have known they would dress up in a pair. The other couples had, after all.

Jasper was in black pants as well, but with white boots and black vest that had red detailing. Unlike Edward, he had no shirt on but he did have a black and white scarf tied around his head in place of (or perhaps just on top of) his spirit frienship bracelet thingy he and Edward always wore now.

"The two of you are... uh, you're probably two guys from a band you think is better than anything we hear these days," I guessed since there was no clear way for me to discern exactly who the two of them were supposed to be.

"Bravo!" Jasper cheered, high fiving me.

It didn't escape my notice that Edward's eyes zeroed in on the action, darkening in the moment my hand colided with Jasper's.

"Which two are you?"

"Mick Jagger and Keith Richards," Jasper replied. "I pushed for Clapton and Beck but..."

He shrugged his shoulders and offered no further explanation.

Edward raised his fist in victory and winked at me.

I continued to smoke my clove as Edward sat back down on the concrete, this time on the other side of Pancakes. We took turns petting him, silently making a game out of placing our hands onto his fur one at a time. Jasper and Edward went on to lecture me about the influence of The Rolling Stones. I nodded along happily because I was sort of drunk off of Bicardi and Edward's presence. I'd heard it all before, and I could only assume I'd hear it all again, but they spoke with such passion it didn't even matter. Jasper's lazy comments made me smile while Edward's charming tones made me warm inside.

A few hours later everything still felt truly content. It was a small miracle in my mind. I wasn't being hit on by Jacob, he _had_ returned to full friends-only mode, Emmett and Jasper seemed to be bonding with the help of Edward, Rosalie had snorted at Edward and Jasper's costumes but hadn't called Edward a degenerate or anything, and Jess was successfully keeping Eric and Tyler from smashing all of her pottery barn possessions.

Things were peaceful.

And then there was the pow wow.

**xXx xXx xXx**

"I knew it! I fucking knew it!" I screamed, half to myself, half to Rosalie.

She looked bored except for the one detail that gave her interest in my upset away, the widening of her eyes.

She's never really heard me scream before.

"Fuck, Bella. You just said fuck. Which one of the love sick pricks pissed you off _that_ badly?"

I understood her bland concern. I usually strayed away from the all mighty "F" word. I heard it all the time from my friends, and it didn't offend me or anything. It just never found it's way into my vocabulary.

It wiggled it's way in now, though. Because, honestly, I _did_ fucking know that this would happen. And it sucked.

I paced a little bit outside of the door to his building before setting off on my way down the sidewalk, furious for more reasons that I even wanted to admit to.

Jacob and I were fighting. That was fucking terrible.

We'd spent 3 hours at the hospital while Edward was passed out in the ER, due to a head injury. That was fucking frightening.

Jacob was the cause of Edward's said head injury. That was fucking unacceptable.

But the reason Jacob smashed Edward's head in the first place was because_ someone_ couldn't resist pushing my best friend to his limits, going all possessive and ugly. And that was just... fucking... confusing.

This all lead to anger. I was angry.

And so high strung, it was ridiculous. My thoughts and feelings were jumping over, through, and around each other. Creating chaos I'd never really felt before.

I couldn't control that Jacob probably egged Edward on and had lied to me earlier when he said he could be ok about our friendship going back to normal. Part of the reason we were fighting was because when I asked him if he provoked Edward at all, he'd gone silent and told me it shouldn't matter.

So that was obviously a huge, "Yes, I was an ass on purpose so that he would look bad."

I was angry that my best friend was turning out to be more of an issue than I originally thought. And slightly more immature than I had anticipated.

I also couldn't control that Edward wanted me so badly it was frightening and angry in itself.

But most of all, I could most definitely not control how completely torn I felt over what Edward did because of me.

Half of me hated that he acted this way, waltzing into Mike's office with an ego the size of Russia, telling Jacob what he could and could not do in his relationship with me.

But the other half of me thrilled at the thought of his possession over me. This beautfiul, complex, intriguing man was on fire for his ability to keep _me_ to himself.

I loved it.

I physically shook again as I walked, feeling overwhelmingly lost in this wave of rage.

The night was cold and my frustrated thoughts kept coming back to how much I loved Edward's claim over me.

My anger longed to center itself so I ripped a leaf off of one of the nice bushes that lined the sidewalk leading to the end of the block.

I was still rambling curses and nonsense, and walking very quickly. Rosalie was keeping up with me perfectly fine and keeping silent.

After the hospital we'd taken Edward back to his condo. Jasper and I had both been there before, though I'd only ever been outside of it. Jasper had a key (of course) so we'd gotten Edward inside and on the couch. He woke up intermittently but he was never completely coherent when he did.

I couldn't leave his side when we got him settled. Even though the doctor had confirmed that no real damage was done, telling us that he'd wake up in a bit and was now just in a post-traumatic sleep or some crap like that, I was still worried sick. Almost physically. Edward looked even more pale than usual and his mouth wasn't set in that self assured way it usually was. I missed how green his eyes were and everything about his voice.

But then, when he did wake up, all of my anger just came back. Perhaps it was because once the first "fuck it's bright in here" fell from his mouth I finally knew he was going to be fine, really and truly. Perhaps it was because he only seemed to care about the fact that Jacob was my good friend, and not that he'd walked right into this whole mess instead of trusting that I had things under control.

Or perhaps it was the fact that while he was passed out my heart hurt in a more real way than I'd ever felt before, and my fingers itched to run across his skin until I massaged the life back into his body. So I did. And when I did break the rules and place my hand in his as he laid there unknowing, the sensation that I felt was ten times stronger than I remembered it being when he touched his finger to my arm two months ago.

I still couldn't handle it, but I tried. I kept my hand in his and literally almost cried at the sensation.

If it felt like_ that _every time I touched him I knew that I would get lost in him forever the second I let myself. I knew that once the barriers were down I would be painstakingly his.

How could that not overwhelm me?

I knew it would be wonderful and destructive.

My hand continued to buzz in his as I stared at his still form, completely in awe at the sensation of his cells pressed against mine. I knew he had to be in a pretty damn thick sleep if this electric thing between us wasn't waking him up.

So I took my hand back and cautiously took my seat in his old black recliner, waiting for him to wake up for real and trembling.

I was frightened of the boy that I coudln't live without.

And that made me livid.

I never answered Rosalie when she asked me which one of them I was so furious at.

Because my answer wasn't fair.

She followed me the few blocks I had to travel in order to reach my own apartment. I was deeply appreciative of her waiting for me to be done with Edward. She was a hard nut to crack, so to speak. Brutal and crass, but she still had a lot of love to give the people she thought had earned it.

Edward and I had fought when he woke up, and I hated that but maybe it was for the better. This way I could take some sort of break from him to clear my head. I told him I needed to figure some things out, possibly on my own, and I meant it even though he refused to accept it.

Maybe I did need to separate from him. Whatever we had was beyond ordinary, and maybe that was simply too much for me.

Rosalie hugged me and kissed my temple when we reached the door to my building, telling me I better fucking call her if I didn't actually want to spend the night alone.

I nodded and retreated to my apartment, fighting tears all the way.

Gosh. I did_ not_ want to separate myself from Edward.

But I also didn't want to go on like this, being so completely unfair to him until something violent happened again and we had to deal with what we were, or weren't, or couldn't be.

I opened the door to my apartment, slammed it shut, and made a bee-line for my bedroom.

I felt like a basket case, going back and forth in my mind in the way I was. It wasn't this difficult with James. Everything after he left was difficult, yes, but loving him wasn't this complicated.

I rounded the corner into my bedroom and threw my purse onto the floor immediately, wondering how I would ever start to feel normal again, or if I even wanted to.

At the exact moment my purse hit the floor a small musical sound hit my ears, grabbing my attention.

Jasper Whitlock sat on my bed, still dressed as Keith Richards, restringing a violin.

"You are supposed to be at Edward's," I said wearily.

I made a small effort to rid my face of the few tears that had escaped, but I wasn't in the mood to pretend I was feeling good about things. I was never good at the poker face concept, so I've never really put forth the effort to greatly.

"I'm always over there," he laughed. "And E's boring when he sleeps."

"Not really," I argued out of instinct. "It's the only time he doesn't look wild."

"You watch him sleep?"

"Shut up. He watches me too. Or at least he used to. I don't know if we'll ever sleep in the same room again."

Jasper chuckled at that, plucking a string or two at the same time.

"You need to sit next to me and explain why you are lying to me," he commanded calmly.

"Lying?" I asked, sitting despite my confusion.

"Yes, ly-ing. You've started this crazy talk about not seeing Edward anymore. It's disrespectful, darling."

I sighed sadly and closed my eyes, feeling the anger sift into exhaustion.

"I'm not lying to you Jasper. Edward and I had a fight, and after what he did to Jake tonight... even if it's not his fault entirely, I'm just not sure anything will ever work out between us."

"But it's already been working out..."

"Ha!" I laughed, the sound sitting in the air hollowly and devoid of mirth, "It's been a giant train wreck. You know that."

"I know that it's been beautiful."

"Well then I don't know where exactly you've been, but it hasn't been with us. Mine and Edward's realtionship has been nothing but dysfunctional since day one."

"Dysfunction isn't beauty?"

God, he was so weird. Fantastic and eccentric, but weird. It was making this conversation tiring already.

"No. Dysfuntion is hard. And confusing. And frustrating."

He was silent for a moment, with his words at least. I heard the violin plink a few pleasant notes as I traced nondescript shapes into the purple of my comforter.

"What you just said... the adjectives... didn't you just describe love?" he offered quietly, still plucking the small instrument.

My eyes turned to him slowly. Jasper was staring out of the window, directly at the marriage proposal still staring back into my room, mouthing words that appeared to be a song without any volume.

"Love is supposed to be exciting, and... and thermal, and exhilerating," I nearly plead, afraid that I knew exactly where he was going with this. And it was going to be a place where I was in the wrong.

"You don't feel those things for Edward?"

Damnit.

"I feel _a lot_ when it comes to Edward," I grumbled. "Right now it's mostly anger."

"I love when women feel unnecessary feelings. It reminds me of my mother, and her enrapturing irrationality. And why flowers were made to be calming."

There were so many things I wanted to do after he spoke. I wanted to laugh and tell Jasper that nothing about my anger was unnecessary, maybe just where I was directing it. I wanted to sit there and just love him for being so unlike anyone I've ever spoken to before. I wanted to find out more about his crazy mother.

I sat up a little bit, resting my back on a pillow just like he was.

"Of course _you_ don't think I have any right to be mad at Edward."

"But I never said that you don't have a right to be. If you think about it, though," he paused, pulling a joint out of his vest pocket. He looked at me with a raised brow, wordlessly asking if it was all right.

I shrugged. Why not? I've smoked pot a few times. I wasn't big on the smell, but Jasper was there making me feel a little more calm that before, and I needed something to mask the Edward scent that I couldn't shake from my senses.

He lit up and offered me some. I refused, but watched his mouth take a pull and then hold in the smoke as I patiently waited for him to finish his thought.

He set the joint down on his knee and continued plucking the small instrument he'd successfully restrung.

"Where was I?" he asked, charmingly smirking at me, revealing that he was well aware of his inability to have the same line of thought for more than thirty seconds.

"You were telling me to think about whether or not I had a right to be mad at Edward. I think?"

"Yes, yes... if you think about it, that's not the issue. The issue is whether or not it's worth it. Wasting all of this time being angry."

"I think it is."

"Why?"

_Because it keeps me from realizing how scared I really am of him, and his attractive possession over me._

_Because it's easier to feel anger than fear._

"Because what he did was wrong."

"Once, when I was seventeen, I ran away from home. It wasn't the first time, but this specific time, I didn't leave a note for my mother..."

I looked up at him, scrunching my face in confusuion at his character.

He was telling me a story now? Did he forget that we were hashing out my anger with Edward? Was Jasper really that insolent?

"She _hated_ when I did that. She really did. But, man. I had to go this one time, at the drop of a hat, because it was August. Since I'd been 15 I knew that the blueberry harvest in Maine was not something I cared to miss."

He paused, taking another hit from the illegal cigarette. He turned to me and smiled lazily, leaning in.

"_Maria _always came to the blueberry harvest."

I pursed my lips and tilted my head in an interested way. I couldn't help feeding into his story and the swirl of smoke around our heads, and just the feeling of him. Jasper was intoxicating, just not in the same, dangerous way as Edward. I was finding him to be intoxicating in a safe, magical, cure to loneliness kind of way.

I'm very glad Edward chose to "keep him" (as he likes to put it).

"Maria?" I asked simply.

"Maria!" he sang playfully and quietly with a new flourishing strum of the violin. "She was small, and dark, and soft spoken. She always knew when to hold my hand, she never kissed me, and she loved blueberries. I spent three summers with her in Maine."

"Just three?"

"Mmm. The summer I was seventeen was the last year I was able to spend with her."

"Did something happen to her?" I asked during his next pot filled pause. I felt like I knew where this was going.

"Something always happens to _Maria_, doesn't it?" he asked with a sad laugh, emphasizing "Maria". He'd effectively turned this real girl's name into an euphemism for all of the unfortunate individuals that play a part in an allegory.

"Always."

"She fell in love with a boy named Marcus. He was nothing like me. He loved material shit, and metal, and nectarines."

The strings his fingers were toying with turned lower, the notes longer. This was probably the first time I found any sort of emotion breaking through Jasper's happy exterior. It was slight but noticable. He pulled another hit out of the joint and released the smoke slowly through barely parted lips.

We were still sitting in the dark in my room and I grew sad for him.

"Maria was _not_ nectarines," he spoke softly, staring out at the tree and probably about seven years into the past.

"She was blueberries," I finished as I watched him remember her.

"She was blueberries."

I wasn't sure what to do, but I wasn't sure anything needed to be done.

So I sat there, mute and unhelpful. I sort of let my head drop to the side and onto his shoulder. It felt foreign and comfortable. Jasper and I weren't very close in terms of relationship, at least not before this very moment. Our only connection before this night was Edward's odd, instant devotion to both of us.

"Does this story end with you telling me that you were unnecessarily mad at Maria for leaving you and it was a waste of time? Is that what you're getting at?" I asked carefully, trying to be sensitive while also cutting off the Full House lesson before he got around to it. I knew that crap already, so he could save his breath."Is the lesson of your Maria story that it wasn't worth it?"

He didn't respond verbally at first. I felt his head move side to side in rejection of my question. Then I felt his arm move slightly as he continued pulling the soft plinking noises from the violin.

"For me, fair Stella, it_ was _worth the anger. Because I mean it. I was angry about knowing I would never be traveling to Maine again, which I haven't, and I was angry about not being nectarine enough for her. I was angry about being worried that I'd never find someone who made the clouds move like she did."

"I'm just angry that I can't control what I feel for Edward," I admitted. I was speaking to mostly myself, just out loud, thinking that maybe Jasper and I were lost in our own worlds, his in the past, mine in a cluttered condo four blocks north.

I felt boring compared to Jasper's anger. He and Maria had Maine, and blueberries, and three summers worth of lost, loving memories.

Comparatively, Edward and I only had two months of dysfunctional non-physical flirting.

"When I realized that it was worth it to be angry at her, because I was angry with my whole entire heart and that's the only real way to feel anger... that's when I felt it end. That was when I felt peace. You have to realize this, darling, before you brush it off as unimportant as so many fools do."

I lifted my head from his shoulder, trying to understand and feeling just on the edge of his real purpose for sitting here and telling me about his Maria history.

"Realize what? That Edward's worth it?"

"Love is worth it."

"Ok, it's only been two months. I wouldn't say love-" my fear began to frantically defend.

"Love is angry and dysfuntional, so you cannot be afraid to embrace either of those. It swirls like smoke and it's sweet like blueberries when you're lucky. But it's going to be as offensive as nectarines sometimes as well. And you're allowed to be angry about nectarines. Their fucking discusting."

We both laughed a little bit, leaning into each other a little more due to the sadness in both of the happy sounds we emitted.

I reached over and grabbed the joint from his knee, taking a small hit just because it was turning into that kind of a night. It didn't calm me, or haze my thoughts, or provoke oddly placed giggles. It just made me feel like I was really experiencing Jasper for the first time.

"You're using the word love a lot, and it's scaring me," I admitted as I set the joint back down on his knee.

"Yes! Love is scary, too," he started back in, sounding actually excited. "But isn't that why we want it?"

"Um, no. I hate _this, _being scared all the time. I've always imagined love being comfortable. You know, secure."

He laughed at me; a lazy stoner belly laugh.

"If we wanted to be comfortable, we'd want to remain alone. _That's_ comfortable. Just you, and music, and MJ..." his voice trailed off as his hand trailed the joint to his mouth. He closed his eyes and nothing but the music remained for a few smokey moments. When he was done with his pull he placed the joint in my mouth softly, smirking.

"If we wanted comfort we'd do this, right here, for the rest of our lives. But neither of us are really _here_, relaxing. Because we've got love, Stella. And it's making our bones anxious for those two Cullens we can't fucking figure out, can't live without, and can't feel any comfortable feelings for."

My eyes opened and I pinched the joint harder in between my fingers because I almost dropped it.

"Wait. You and... Alice? Already? You haven't even met yet-"

"No, ma'am. We have. I took a train out there twenty two days ago. She's pretending I'm not the man she's been waiting for. I suppose I've kept her waiting for so long, it's understandable. Like I said, women and their unnecessary feelings... she doesn't understand that those are what I live for. Feels like home to me."

"Wow. I didn't even know you'd gone out there."

"Of course not. That was the weekend you and E repaired your bike."

Ah, yes. We'd holed up in my apartment all weekend.

The bike never even got fixed. Instead, I attempted to teach him how to make lasagna (he spent the whole time stealing cheese and untying my apron), Edward proposed twice, and he helped me give Marie a new up do.

"Huh," I emitted the sound thoughtfully after I realized it had been odd Edward hadn't left me for a date with Jasper that entire 48 hours. "I guess you weren't around that weekend."

"Love is distracting."

I snapped my eyes to him and he winked at me. He nodded his head at my hand, signaling for me to place the joint in his mouth as he continued to place an intricate tune.

"I don't think I want to love Edward," I said quietly after placing the small burning object within his lips. "I mean, I do. But I'm not sure I'm ready to. Look at how irrational I became tonight. It's not fair to him but, God... it's not easy to feel what I feel for him."

I leaned back into the pillow again, away from his shoulder but still close to his body. It was odd, this feeling of comfort and security I was finding in Edward's "wing man"; the boy who wore spirit bands and probably hadn't been completely sober since his first blueberry harvest.

But it was nice to feel less alone in my frustration. The way he was presenting these ideas of love to me made me feel validated and silly all at the same time.

I started to resign myself to the fact that this chaos I felt just might be what he was accusing it of being.

Love.

"If love were easy it wouldn't be fun," he spoke sincerely, the joint hanging onto his lips easily.

"But is it supposed to be this hard?" I sighed, helplessly.

"Yes."

I think that was the moment I realized why Jasper and Edward so easily fell into their connection with each other.

They were both so convoluted and eccentric, but also direct and effective. I think that's where the immediate instinct to trust them came from. You never really had a reason to be wary of what they were giving you, because they always just gave themselves.

Maybe that was the threatening part for people like Alice and I, people who probably hadn't been offered that before. I knew next to nothing about Alice, especially her love life, but Edward had often mentioned that they were both rather unorthodox in their dating history.

I sighed again, shedding the helpless feeling and instead feeling plain exhaustion cloud me.

"Jasper, has Edward told you about how I can't let him touch me?" I asked. I started thinking that I could lay down, rest my eyes, and still gather some of his off beat wisdom.

"That's probably his favorite thing about you."

"That makes no sense."

"Sure it does. Just like your favorite thing about him is that you can't figure out why you love him already."

"You're interesting, but you're wrong, Jasper. I _hate_ that I can't figure that out. It's why I yelled at him earlier tonight, which in turn has just made me mad at myself because that wasn't very fair."

"You do love it, you just don't see it yet. How long has it been since someone has made you so passionate about their actions? Open your eyes, darling. You love this. You just won't let yourself love it in a positive way."

I thought about that for a bit, mixing the music with my thoughts and the smoke, and it all sort of made sense suddenly.

"I have to tell Edward about James," I concluded out loud, wondering if he would understand. Trusting that he would, on some level.

He nodded and blew some smoke from his mouth, creating a lovely picture of his lethargic leaning body, the violin, and the twisting grey particles.

"And I need to eat blueberries with Alice."

I fell into a deep sleep then, I think, because I don't remember anything past that moment of that long, rough night. I dreamt of violins dancing through blue smoke and Alice Cullen debarking a massive freight train at the Seattle station.

When I woke up I was covered in Edward's black hoodie but also still in my Star Trek dress. My red ugg boots were on the floor haphazardly. From where my head rested I could see Jasper asleep in Edward's chair. The sight made me both happy and sad. I had a new love for the figure languidly draped in it, but it was nowhere near the flood of emotion I had for the boy who should have been in it.

I rolled onto my back, thinking about everything I needed to say to Edward, and how much of that conversation would be me apologizing for not understanding real, complex love.

I always thought that I had.

I hadn't.

My body was heavy and sore in a post-difficult night sort of way. I rolled onto my right side in an effort to get to the other side of my bed, but my action was blocked.

"Fuck, Bella, your elbow went right into my head."

Holy hell.

"Edward, what the hell are you doing in my bed?" I whisper-yelled. The instinct to be quiet for sleeping Jasper apparently kicked in all on it's own.

"Where was I supposed to sleep?" he asked grumpily as he rubbed the spot where he accused my elbow of hitting.

I gaped at him, unable to comprehend how he worked.

"What? _My_ bed?" he asked incredulously when I failed to offer a verbal answer. "No way. My head hurt, and I knew you were upset. I had to be close to you once I realized my mind wasn't actually exploding. My bed's like a thousand feet away from yours..."

He trailed off sleepily, closing his eyes and scrunching up his forehead, looking like he was still hurting badly.

"Didn't you take the aspirin I left?" I asked. I was still whispering and sounding more harsh than I wanted to be with him when he looked so agonized.

"No. Fuck... I should have. Do you have any here?"

I nodded even though he couldn't see me and rolled off the bed in the other direction. I briskly made my way to the bathroom, snatched the bottle of pain reliever and hurried back to my bedroom.

"Did you climb in through the window again?" I asked as I dug through my purse for the water bottle I always kept there.

He nodded and then groaned, keeping his fingers pressed into his closed eyes the entire time.

"Here," I said softly, crawling next to his long body, resting on my knees as I handed him two pills and the water bottle.

He took them and drank about half of the bottle in four large gulps.

I tried really hard not to lust over his damn throat while he drank.

Jasper was more than right, this love stuff wasn't comfortable at all.

"Has Chief Pool Table contacted you yet?" Edward asked as he recapped the water bottle and tossed it towards the end of the bed.

He opened one eye and watched me as I shook my head in response. I grabbed the end of my hair and twisted it a little bit. I noticed the green orb move from my eyes to my fingers. He sighed.

"Good."

"Edward, I need to talk to you about a lot of... just a lot."

"Yeah, I know. We're even more fucked up than before."

"Yeah."

He closed his eyes again and moved his hand from his face to his sides.

"Can we do it later? Like when I don't feel like I'd prefer my skull turn to dust?"

I laughed a little bit, but I'm not sure he heard me because he didn't react at all.

"Of course. You should probably sleep for a while anyway."

"Probably. I do need to ask you one thing right now, though. Because I won't really be able to sleep until I know."

"What?"

"Do you still like saying my name?"

He didn't open his eyes, but if he had he would have seen the answer on my face, the one I could never play poker with.

I wanted to tell him yes and then go into detail about everything Jasper opened my eyes to the night before. I wanted to get closer to being unafraid of the chaotic love I was still just starting to explore.

But he needed to sleep.

So instead I ran my hand through his hair and laid back down next to him, showing him that I wasn't giving up on the way I felt when I said his name.

* * *

**Who are your two favorite musicians?**

**This one was extra long, not on purpose, but because Bella's got A LOT going on here, haha. Consider it a Christmas present from me to all of you :)**

**Thank you so much for reading! **

**LOVE YOUS**

**-Car**


	7. I Don't Know What To Do

**CHAPTER 7 - I Don't Know What To Do**

_"But when you're with me, Darling _

_I don't believe in anyone else_

_I'm so confused by you_

_I don't know what to do"_

- Pete Yorn & Scarlet Johansson "I Don't Know What To Do"

**Edward**

Well this morning already fucking sucked.

Ok, maybe not the whole entire morning. But eating breakfast sure did. And what was to come certainly wasn't going to be a day at the beach either.

I'm a little fuzzy about exactly what went on in the last twenty four hours, as my aching head still made things like memories rather shotty, but I knew that whatever the hell happened the night previous had resulted in three things:

1. The left side of my head was now the only thing that hurt, which was an improvement from the whole damn thing trying to combust. But let's face it. It was still a pain in the ass.

2. I remembered enough about Bella's post elbowing antics to know that we were going to probably going to discuss Douche James today. And it probably was not going to be too much of a good time.

3. Three is that something went on between Jasper and Bella last night while I was laying on the floor of my condo dying. I'm sitting here now watching Jasper and my Bella giggle at each other over plates of blueberry pancakes.

I wanted them to bond, yes. There's nothing better for a man then this little arrangement here: the best friend the girl getting along. But I don't do well with being left out.

Despite my sour feelings about suddenly being the third wheel things weren't all bad. We were sitting at the little table in Bella's kitchen that she and I usually sat at. It was a bit more crowded with Jasper there but that only helped matters physically speaking. My knees were only a breath away from Bella's under the table and I could, as usual, practically feel heat or electricity or something radiating off of them. Every few minutes she would glance at me and smile shyly, as if she had some fantastic secret she wanted to tell me.

That was new. And good. Because her eyes went all sex kitten for a slight second right after they connected with mine each time I caught her looking. and even though I'm 99 percent sure she wasn't doing it on purpose it was a thrill and a half.

My scalp was also still quitely humming in pleasure from the sensation of her hand resting there during the night.

So despite the weird blueberry induced giggling match her and Jasper were using to make me feel on the outside of things, I couldn't be _that _upset. Bella had sort of voluntarily touched me. On purpose. For a long amount of time during the night.

I'm still kind of pissed that I had been so fucked up and fell asleep before I could really appreciate what it meant to have her delicate fingers running through my hair.

But I was trying not to dwell. What's done is done. And I have faith that something like that will happen again. Soon. The floodgates are bound to open after our little heart to heart about... well, whatever it is we need to sort through.

"These are so damn good," Jasper pratically moaned through yet another bite. "I haven't had any like these since Maine, I swear."

His post-morning toke up eyes were droppy and happy. I scowled a little and pushed around some of the blue-brown goodness on my plate. I'd inhaled my pancakes in about point three seconds and now I had to sit and watch my bff moan about my Bella's cooking with nothing to distract me.

"Yeah, you said that already," she replied through a smug smile that they shared.

I felt my brow bunch up again and looked down into my pate.

How come we were all suddenly so stoked on blueberries?

"And what does Maine have to do with anything?" I asked, finishing my thought out loud.

Bella turned her gaze from Jasper to me and a lot of my annoyance subsided just from that one look. I noticed in my peripherary that her arm lowered and the bit of inked skin on the part of her wrist that stuck out between my black hoodie and her palm dipped into a bit of syrup on her plate.

She didn't notice the dab of sweet goo that now resided there. My tounge did.

"Maine has nothing to do with anything, man," Jasper chuckled. He tipped his chair back and stretched his arms out above his head as he sighed, "Besides, you can't have nectarine pancakes, now can you?"

There are a lot of times I don't know what the fuck Jasper is talking about. That stopped being an issue for me the moment I shook his hand and decided to promote him from fellow citizen to wingman. This was just weird, though, because Bella laughed indicating that she _did _know what the hell nectarines and Maine had to do with anything about our breakfast.

She kicked Jasper's chair and told him, "No more nectarine talk. There are plenty of other blueberries in the harvest."

They both shared a laugh again.

I pushed over my glass of milk to get their attention back onto me.

I wasn't lying. I don't do well with being left out.

"Oh no, Edward! Hold on..." Bella scrambled, pushing up from her chair to grab a towel for me as I sat back and helplessly watched the milk drip from the table onto my pants.

"Clumsy me," I sighed, pushing some hair around on my head and feeling pretty damn satisfied with my tactic.

"Shoot, E, that was the last of the milk. I think," Jasper said as he picked up his empty milk glass and frowned at the bottom of it.

"Oops."

"I think you're right. Edward, we'll just have to pick some up before tomorrow morning," Bella responded as she threw the towel to me and started clearing plates from the table.

I smiled at the way she looped us both into the "getting milk" equation. By now it was a known fact that we'd spend our days off together. And every since knowing Bella Swan I've found little domestic things like shopping for milk to be remarkable.

"We can do it on the way to my place," I threw out there as I dabbed at my pants.

"Are we going to your place?" Bella asked, quirking an eyebrow. Her hip cocked out a little bit and it was way too damn cute in the red shorts she was wearing.

"I thought we could go there to have 'the talk'. We're always here. A change of scenery might be nice."

I shrugged and hoped that she wouldn't mind the plans I'd already formed. In truth I really just wanted to get her back into my space, my home, to make it a better experience for her. We needed to erase the horrid memories she probably had of being there when my head was exploding and we were fighting.

"A change of scenery's the best backdrop of new beginnings," Jasper wisely drawled.

"A change of pants probably won't hurt either," Bella laughed, nodding in agreeance to the plan and throwing me another one of those sexy eye glance things.

I lifted my empty glass to Bella then drained the glass of the small sip that was still left in it.

"Speaking of pants, I have to go. I have a phone call to make," Jasper announced as he stood and pushed his chair in.

"Adios hermano."

I bid Jasper farewell with a high five and a smile. He reciprocated then walked over to the sink and gave Bella a one armed hug as she said goodbye to him as well. He grabbed a stray blueberry from the counter, touched it to her nose, ate it, then walked out as they both fucking giggled one more time.

**Bella**

"Ok. What the hell is all this blueberry induced euphoria about?" Edward asked sternly as he pushed away from the table and stood up.

I turned back to the sink and continued with the dishes, unsure of what to say. I didn't want to keep things from Edward but I wasn't sure that any of the Maria saga was mine to share. The sweet, honest things Jasper disclosed to me about Maria, and the harvest, and the horridness of nectarines seemed like something Edward wouldn't really understand. At least not right now, standing in my kitchen with a scowl and soiled pants.

"It's nothing," I replied, laughing under my breath at how Jasper had come running into the kitchen this morning when the smell of my pancakes woke him up.

All laughter ceased as he came to stand at the counter next to me. He leaned into it with his hip and the way his head fell to the side was endearing and menacing.

"Bella, I'm asking nicely because I like you. But feeling left out gets me really iritated, really very quickly," he spoke, sounding controlled and assuredly calm. As if he was putting an effort into making his voice sound that way.

He cocked his head to the side even more in anticipation of a response as his forefinger violently smashed a lone blueberry on the counter next to him.

"It's not really my information to give out," I resolved, turning towards him and mirroring his lean agianst the counter.

"So?" he asked quickly. Defiantly.

"So you're going to have to deal. Ask Jasper all about the blueberry harvest if you care so much. I'm surprised you two haven't discussed it during your tea parties."

I tried to laugh it off with a joke that put their masculinity at risk. This tactic usually worked with Edward, but I guess this morning he wasn't into defending his manly honor.

He flicked the smashed blueberry into the sink and continued to look at me in an inquisitive way. His acute stare made me the tiniest bit nervous. It was one of the things I still hadn't grown used to over our two month non-relationship relationship. I wasn't sure I ever would grow used to parts of Edward, though. Or that I even wanted to.

"You two discussed personal things last night while I was in my apartment, alone, waiting for my skull to implode?"

His tone was hard, but I couldn't help from emitting a small laugh.

"How many ways are you going to come up with to discribe your headache?" I laughed, refusing to let him get so serious about me finding common ground with his BFF.

"Stop downplaying my torment and answer me, Bella. You guys got personal last night, didn't you?"

The sound of his voice hinted at desperation and I started to wonder what this was really about. Suddenly the whole thing felt kind of serious. Not just like another over reaction Edward was having to something he didn't understand.

I turned off the water in the sink and set down the sponge before turning to him again, still facing him in our matching, casual leans.

"He was here when I got home. I was confused and upset about everything that transpired at Mike's and especially after fighting with you. He was calm and soothing and wanted to help me sort through some of the more, uh, tremulous thoughts I was having."

"You were uncertain about me?"

"No. Well, yes. Not just you. Me _with_ you."

I fought for my words, stumbling over them like my feet stumbled over air.

"So Jasper helped you realize that there's nothing to be uncertain about? Because I'm never uncertain about you and he knows that."

"Are you trying to measure his worth as a wingman?" I tried once again to joke.

Again I fell short and was met only with his serious, emerald, contemplative eyes.

"I'm trying to figure out what it is exactly I missed out on between my best friend and my girl... friend?"

The broken word hung awkward in the air between us.

Here was our biggest problem and the reason why we kept finding ourselves in situations like this, where one of us was desperately trying to feel secure in the other. We had no definition. And that was mostly my fault, yes. According to Edward's crazed enthusiasm I could be his wife right now if I'd just say yes to one of his silly proposals. But I couldn't do that and I couldn't be anything official to him either.

I also couldn't correct him. I didn't consider myself his girlfriend. I wanted it. Yes. But how fair would it be to him if I went around not letting him lay a finger on me but claiming him as mine? Leaving out the title helped things feel a bit more even in my mind.

I hadn't considered, until now, the fact that not saying it out loud didn't prevent Edward from feeling or seeing it that way.

"He gave me some great advice, that's it. I finally got to see the him that resides behind the cloud of smoke he's always lounging behind. You know better than anyone that Jasper has an alternative view of looking at things. Yes, he shared a bit of his past with me in order to teach me something I needed to learn. Something good, Edward. About you and I. There's nothing to worry about."

I reached over and tugged on his spirit band a little bit, just to get as close to physical contact as I could. I wanted him to get it. I wanted him to see that while Jasper and I may be forming a relationship outside of both of our connections to him, it resulted in a better understanding of what we had.

He gave me a small, incomplete smile as I dropped my hand from the thin band of leather that was faithfully wrapped around his wrist.

"I'm not worried. I'm just... I can't get the image out of my head of you guys sitting in the moonlight sharing secrets. And it just bothers me, that's all."

He pushed hand through his hair and took a step closer to me, semi-sliding his hip along the edge of the counter and lifting up the edge of his t-shirt in the process.

"I want to be the only one you sit with in the dark and whisper to, Bella._ I_ want to be that person. You won't completely let me, but I want it."

Again, the composed control was back, masking what I thought would be desperate pleading if he dropped it.

"It was only frustration that I gave him, Edward. I promise. He helped me calm down about the fight."

"Maine, and blueberries and all of that shit that makes you two giggle... that's all about him?"

"Yes."

"Did you tell him about James?"

"No."

The relief that flodded his sharp features is what pushed me into action. He was worried that I let another person in before I let him. Afraid that I'd trusted Jasper with my past before himself. He was visibly tired of waiting for me to be ready for him.

I sighed and stood up straight.

"Let me put some real clothes on. Then we can go to the store and to your place. And _talk_."

I smile and walked away, feeling heavy and light at the same time. I was ready to tell him about the boy who broke my heart. I wasn't ready to relive any of it, allow it to become real in my mind and heart again. The only thing that kept me from locking myself in my bedroom to get out of what I'd just agreed to do was Edward yelling out after me, "Leave my hoodie on."

**xXx xXx xXx**

**Edward**

I stood in the doorway in semi-shock as Bella sauntered over to my black leather recliner and sat down all willy-nilly. As if we'd done this a thousand times before and she belonged there in her mind just as much as I'd already made her belong there in mine.

Again, just as the night before, I longed for her to be lounging there in one of my old Stones t-shirts instead of the jeans and sweatshirt she wore now. But being picky probably wasn't the best option. I was sort of lucky she was even here at all, finally opening up.

"Can I offer you anything?" I asked mockingly as I finally shut the door and entered into my own home.

"Any hot pockets or Camels?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "No thanks. I'll just have some of the champagne."

"As you wish," I chuckled, winking at her for good measure.

Her cheeks turned that sort of pinkish color they do when she's trying to hold in all of her emotions but still blushes.

I went into the kitchen and pulled out two of the three coffee mugs I had in stock. I set them down next to each other and used the hand that wasn't holding the bag of champagne, orange juice, and milk to tug on my hair a little. I assessed the situation before me and decided that a phone call needed to be made.

Alice needed to get here, pronto. Not only because Jasper was falling apart (as much as one can when MJ is keeping one chilled out all the damn time) but because I needed her to help me shop for more Bella-appropriate things. If we were going to start spending time here (and - let's face it- we kind of needed to because I missed my piano and my thousand thread count sheets) I was going to need nicer shit.

I shrugged it off and set the brown paper bag on the counter so I could take the goods out and pour us some champ-heavy mimosas. During our quest for milk at the convenience store on the way over here we both conveniently decided that a serious and sophisticated conversation such as this deserved a little booze. She probably wanted it to loosen up her wind pipes. I wanted it because if I finally got to kiss her today it was fucking wonderful to have the possibility of her tasting like an orange. Mimosas were classy booze and that was what made it un-trashy to indulge in at one thirty in the afternoon. At least that's what she argued when she bogarted me as I went straight for the 10.99 tequila upon mention of booze.

I carried the mugs into the room where she sat and handed one to her, noticing that the little bubbles in our drinks mirrored the fluttery look on her face. She was clearly shitting a brick over this whole "I'll tell you the James story" business and I didn't know what to do to get her to calm the fuck down. So I went with the usual honesty.

"Bella, you know that I don't give a crap about what happened between you and James, right?"

Her brown eyes grew wide, afraid even. My first instinct was to backtrack.

Odd. I've never felt _that_ before. The need to go back and fix myself for the good of another human being's emotions. It must be the "good guy" in me trying to break free now that I was kind of egging him on to be better for her. Well, too bad, GG. I don't backtrack when I say what I mean, no exceptions.

"Well, I guess, if you don't want to hear this-" Bella began in a small voice, leaning forward to set her mug down on the table.

I stopped her with my hand, holding it out and setting it palm up on the table right in the spot where her mug would have landed. I wrapped my fingers around the bottom of it and pushed it back up to her.

"Don't be crazy, woman. If you want to tell me all about the Douche, then I'm more than happy to hear it. Because it's a part of you, and it explains why my skin is deprived of yours. But I don't _need_ to. Ok? I want you with or without this information. With or without your sordid past. This is all for your benefit, my dear. I'm in no matter what."

"Ok," she agreed in a distracted way, nodding and circling the ring of the mug with her finger. The image drove me crazy, and I'm not quite sure why. It was just one finger gently circling the ceramic around and around, experiencing the soft touch of her alluring skin...

Good God, I was jealous of a coffee cup.

"All right," I breathed, taking a rather large sip of champ and juice into my mouth. "Shall we then?"

She still looked upset and on the verge of attempting to drown herself in her mimosa. I sighed and dropped my head back onto the couch.

**Bella**

"Get over here," he commanded, lifting one arm up and beckoning me over to the couch with it while his head remained tipped back.

"But I-" I started to explain, wondering why he was interrupting me when I was just about to start my story.

"You're freaking out still."

"I was just going to start telling y-"

"I can see it all over your face, Bella. You're freaking out internally. And you're all the way over there so there's nothing I can really do about it."

I sort of just stared at him, a little bit amazed at how perceptive he really was of me. Maybe I hadn't been paying attention to how much Edward had been paying attention over the last few months. When I didn't make a move to get up because I was still absorbing how new and wonderful it was to know that I had someone that actually seemed to _see_ me his face grew impatient and hard.

"Get over here," he commanded again, throwing one of the black throw pillows off of the couch and onto the floor behind.

I finally unfolded myself from the recliner, the only place I felt safe in his condo and had instinctively bee-lined to upon entering. As I moved towards him my nerves were all on edge and with each step I took it got worse and worse.

I did want to tell Edward about my past with James. I did.

But reliving it would not be fun. And who knows how Edward will actually react? Maybe I'll just sound stupid and naive to him after I spill my guts and he'll realize that I'm not this big, bewitching mystery that he sometimes so clearly wants me to be.

What if he finally sees me for what I probably really am? Just a regular girl that got hurt and can't get over it.

I sat down next to him and turned a little bit inward so that I was somewhat facing him. I saw that his mimosa was over half way gone. I'd only taken three or so sips of mine and wasn't even wanting anymore. In the store this all sounded more appealing than it really was. In the store Edward was so beautiful next to all the everyday convenient things, and an afternoon with him and champagne and stupid declarations of what our hippie friend taught me had seemed so easy and ideal.

Then he opened the door to his apartment. I hadn't gotten a good look around last time I was here, not twenty four hours prior. I was too busy obsessing over Edward's head injury and the amount of fury I felt towards him and Jake. For nothing that was really even their fault, since I was the one that let my relationships with them get too blurry. Undefined. Complicated.

"My relationship with James was really easy," I began, suddenly wanting everything I shared with Edward to be the same.

I could pretend that we'd fallen into an easy rhythm in our two month history so far, but there was always an underlying complication. Perhaps today wouldn't fix everything, but if it could be the beginning of a new chapter for me then moving forward with Edward could finally become smooth.

I stopped and looked down into my cup, taking a rather large sip before continuing. I had his full attention and his cup was drained. He set it on the coffee table and then pulled a throw pillow that had music notes all over it from behind his back. He set it on his lap and reached out towards me. His fingers wrapped around the fabric of my jeans around my ankles and he pulled both of my feet forward towards him in one fast motion. I was slumped down into the couch furhter than before and now my legs were stretched out comfortably, my feet resting on the pillow in his lap. He rested one hand on one of my denim covered ankles and the other in his hair as he propped his elbow up into the arm of the couch to support his tilted head.

He threw me one of those charming smiles as my gaze briefly traveled the length of his bent arm. The ink on it was dark and swirly and I wanted to explore all of the colors and stories that laid there, on his skin.

He was so worth all of this.

"James had sleeves, too. It was one of the first things I noticed about him, actually."

"Boys with tattoos are always trouble, Bella," he teased, smirking.

"I know. More trouble than their worth," I teased back, grateful for his ability to lighten the mood. I stretched my leg out and poked his stomach with my big toe. His grip on my ankle tightened as his smile grew.

"Anyway, a lot of things about James pulled me into him initally, I suppose. He and his life-long friend Victoria were in this band that played locally. He easily collected a lot of friends and seemed genuinely happy to see you everytime you walked into a room he was in. It's definitley true that I was physically attracted to him from the beginning, but it wasn't something I really focused on. He's a good looking guy. Most girls notice him. But it's a very normal, every day kind of attractive. Not like...well, um..."

I squirmed a little bit, trying to avoid feeding the ego sitting next to me. I'd sort of gone into robot story telling mode and nearly walked right into telling Edward that James' attractiveness was plain and boring compared to his sharp, engulfing appeal. At least to me. And every other stupid girl that had been at any of Mike's parties in the last twelve weeks.

"Not like Jasper?" Edward tried, lifting an eyebrow in an inquisitive manner.

"Sure. Jasper."

His lips twitched and I was fairly certain that he knew we were not talking about Jasper. He let it go though, suprisingly. I knew better than to think that he wouldn't bring it up at a more casual time, however. He's still Edward Cullen.

**Edward **

Well at least now I know that if I never get Bella to emotionally cencede to me my body can convincer her.

Something male and prideful inside of me was purring, fantastically fucking pleased at her non-admittance of my physical appeal.

I felt so satisfied in that moment. We've been over the part where girls throw themselves at me. Again, it's a fate passed down to me from my father. But one thing that has continually separated Bella from other girls, or rather, one of the many many things, is her ability to stay away from me physically for this long.

I shook the thought of ravaging her from my head because she'd finished smiling about our Jasper jesting and was zeroing back in on her serious tone.

"I got to know James over the course of a few months. Victoria was dating some french intern at her work and that apparently freed up a lot James' time. He began heavily hanging out with our group. Especially me. We just clicked. I don't think I ever fought with him over anything. Not seriously. And he was so, so funny. I've never laughed that hard. Our relationship just worked, on many levels. We could be in a room of two people or twenty, it didn't matter, we'd have a blast. It used to drive Rosalie crazy."

She paused and laughed in a low tone at her memories. I watched her silently as my fist clenched around my hair, trying not to picture some other mediocre guy making my Bella laugh and smile more than I could.

This was proving to be harder than I thought it would be.

"He was very easily my best friend for a good three or four months before I started to recognize myself having more serious feelings for him. At that point we were in the habit of doing everything together. We went to small shows around town, cooked dinner, watched, or I guess talked through TV and movies. Rosalie hated that, too. We couldn't ever concentrate on anything except each other. Only once did we go to the movies with her and Emmett and that's because she couldn't stand the fact that 'we had little funny fucking comments for every damn second of that shit'."

She laughed again as she mocked Rosalie and I could hear the Bride of Lucifer complaining in my head, clear as day. Along with that I could also picture the source of Mrs. Lucifer's bane in crystal clear vision: Bella and the Douche huddled together in the theater, the armrest up and their bodies unrestricted from each other. I'd been parallel to Bella many times, yes, but never without the knowledge that she was probably having a small aneurism about it. The vision in my head was one of easy companionship, though. One where this man had nothing stopping him from pressing their palms together, or their lips, or their-

**Bella**

"Ouch, Edward! What the hell?" I whined as I wiggled my leg free of his harsh grasp.

The hand that had just been around my ankle in a death grip hung in the air above it now, limp and confused. His eyes were all seriousness, though, and really very clear in their solid resolve.

He looked angry.

"What's wrong?" I asked, afraid and unaware of what was going on in his head.

"I hate him," he replied immediately, dropping his hand back down, not on my leg but next to it.

"James?"

"Yes. James."

It came out like a curse. I was confused.

"But I haven't even gotten to the bad part yet," I ventured as he shifted around, readjusting his legs on the couch.

"For me, Bella, that was the bad part."

He leaned over and reached for my forgotten cup, pulling it from my grasp. I watched him take a long sip and tried not to focus on how his lips looked resting against the porcelin.

He pulled the mug away from his mouth but not far from his face. His head was turned away from me, his gaze focused out the window. A moment passed and I felt odd, intrusive almost, being so close to him while he wrestled with some internal something. I started to pull my feet back to myself but was stopped by his hand. It was large enough to grasp both of my ankles and hold them in place, still on the pillow. He looked at me sideways over the mug and my insides tightened because I was just _that _enamored with him all the time.

"I'm sorry if this is odd, but don't pull away from me while I get over whatever the fuck it is you do to me, please. Don't ever pull away. That's not what we're about."

His voice was low - both quiet and deep. I consented with a simple, confused, "ok," and he nodded at me before taking another sip of the commandeered mimosa.

"I just can't really stand the thought of him being close to you."

"James?"

"Yeah, that's who we're talking about here, right? But I guess it could be any damn guy and I'd be feeling like this. Might I mention our Indian friend?"

His tone was mocking and acidic, but it seemed very internally directed. All of him seemed darker. I was surprised he voluntarily brought up Jake.

"I thought you punched Jake just because... I don't know. Because he's Jake."

I got a reaction out of him, which had been the goal.

His head snapped towards me, the darkness in him coming alive and more revealing.

"Wrong-o, baby. I punched Jake because of my over active need to claim you."

This was one of those moments where his intense honesty threw a violent shiver down my spine.

"_Claim you_" reverberated through me over and over again, both warming and haunting me.

I loved it.

I hated that I loved it, because that was dangerous.

"Well I don't think I'd have a problem if you punched James now," I said with a hint of lightness in an attempt to not dwell on how much his last sentence thrilled me. "You haven't even heard the ugly stuff yet."

"That's the problem, though, isn't it? I don't even need to hear that stuff. Because, as screwed up as what he did to break your heart is, I _get_ that feeling. The heartache. I've caused it in women before and I've heard it happen all around me. In everyday life, in fantasies, in the best and worst of stories, it's there. It's what makes the world go round, Bella. And people heal from it. You can, and so help me God, you _will_, so we can live happily ever after. What he did to hurt you isn't what makes my fist itch to swing at him, however. That's what he did to free you from him so you'd be available for me."

I was motionless and captured by his words, waiting for him to get to his point with an eagerness that was focused. He sipped again, draining the mug, then set it on the table next to his and turned to me completely.

"What makes my skin crawl is the thought of him being close to you in any way before he bailed on you. At the movies, at Newton's, in your apartment, in a car, anywhere. You were setting up your story, going through the minute detail shit that explains why the heartbreak was so bad and I was sitting here growing more and more fucking outraged at the thought of any faceless idiot being that close to you before I even knew you existed."

He was leaning in towards me slightly, holding my attention.

"I've never experienced this before, at all. I feel engulfed in the need to erase someone else from your life, not because of what they did, but because they weren't _me_."

He looked distressed and messy.

I smiled.

"You're jealous."

He blinked once and immediately started shaking his head.

"No. Nope. Nah-ah. I don't do jealousy. Try again."

His posture straightened as he sat up and cleared his throat a bit. His eyes were wide and worried but his features attempted to settle back into their natural nonchalance.

"You're jealous of a boy who isn't even in my life anymore."

"Honestly, stop it because you're wrong-"

"Jake was one thing, he's around all the time and my close friend. But this is great because you don't even have to see me with James and you can't even stand it."

"Nope."

"I sort of love this, Edward. I didn't think you were capable of envy, what with how sure of yourself you always are-"

**Edward**

I threw the pillow at her to shut her the hell up.

This crazy woman was going on and on about me being jealous and I had to stop the insanity.

I didn't know _how_ to feel jealousy. I've never wanted to. It was a waste of time, and over rated, and just not _me_.

At least those were my rock solid beliefs until the pillow hit her face and her beautiful laughter filled my giant living room and everything inside of me felt warm because in that moment_ I_ was making her laugh and not anyone else.

"Fucking hell," I groaned as the realization settled in.

I didn't know what to do with this new revelation. I didn't know what to do with _her_. It seemed like everyday she replaced every idea I had about every person I'd ever known, and I had no idea if they were even real anymore. Because she was my reality, and she was totally set apart from the rest of them.

Had I even experienced anything real before I met her?

She squealed an Alice worthy abhorrent sound and threw the pillow back at me.

"You _are _a human," she sighed, still laughing. Her head tilted to the side as she ran three fingers through her hair.

She was so pretty and excited over my hurrendous discovery. How could I not be jealous of every other element in her life?

I wanted to consume her and hide her away forever. If jealousy came with that, then so be it.

I had no choice but to accept it's useless presence in my life. I'd just have to do it my way.

All the way.

**Bella**

"You know what would help ease the ailments of my new found disease?" he asked, all talk of James forgotten for the moment.

"Jealousy isn't a disease, Edward, it's a human emotion."

"It's a fucking cancer, Bella. But there's a small remedy. Not a cure. A treatment..."

His smile was more menacing than mine, but in a way both of them matched.

"What's you're remedy for jealousy, Dr. Cullen? You cannot murder every other man on the planet. It'd take too long."

He laughed, long and loud and crisp. It was contagious. His fingers massaged the area just above my ankles over the fabric of my jeans.

"My remedy is much more time efficient than mass homicide."

"All right, I'll bite. What is it?"

"If you marry me, I'll be far less insecure about all of this."

My stomach dropped, just like it always did when he proposed in some random, unexpected way.

My smile didn't fade, but it changed, certainly foreshadowing the coming mood shift.

"Not so much, huh?" he asked, still playfull but much softer.

"Tempting. But, no," I deadpanned.

"Rejection number nineteen doesn't sting as much as I thought it would."

"You're building an immunity to me."

"Hardly. I'm still devastatingly disappointed that you won't say yes."

His eyes were true and his hand's weight on my leg was warm. I didn't want to disappoint him. And I did want to make a committment to him, someday. Marriage was a really far-fetched concept for me to grasp, but Edward was always surprising me with what he made feel right and good. So it wasn't out of the question, not someday in the future at least.

But we still had a ways to go.

"James never really asked me to marry him, he sort of just told me that he was saving up to buy me a ring."

It was the perfect segway back into what we were here to do, that much was good. It wasn't pleasant, though, having to turn back to this somber matter. I felt more affection for Edward than ever before, because he'd been able to allow fun to seep into this time where I thought I'd be all tears and broken pieces. I dove back in for both of us. My trust was building. I knew he'd bring me back from any sad place these memories took me.

He sat back and I launched into my tale.

"So, as I said, we were best friends. I know I've referred to Jacob as my best friend now, and he is. Or was... we'll see how things are whenever we talk again... but my relationship with James was different in many ways. I told James everything, it seemed. And I thought I was getting that back from him. I had no reason not to think that he was holding anything back from me, I knew everything there was to know about him. His family came to visit once, before we were anything more than friends, and I was right up to par with them when it came to him. I'd known him for less than half a year but my heart could have convinced me that he'd been in my life since childhood."

I went on and on about the beginning of our relationship and Edward listened intently. His eyes would grow narrower at certain parts; his grip tighter at the mention of the hints I started picking up when James' feelings for me started developing as well. He kept himself in check, though. Mostly.

At one point Edward excused himself for the restroom and came back with the bottle of champagne. We passed it back and forth the rest of the conversation but he definitely had his lips on it far more often than I did.

I detailed the ways in which we James courted me. He spoke to my mother over the phone whenever he could steal it from me and traveled home with me over a few holidays. Renee fell for him almost as hard as I did.

"I knew I was in love with him before we started dating," I revealed to a stoic Edward.

"Something was holding him back from committing to me, but I didn't see it at the time. I was so enamoured, not only with him but with _us_. We made sense, so much sense, it was insane to even think that we wouldn't end up together. Finally, on Jessica's birthday it became official. That night he held my hand at the party. In front of everyone. Neither of us had been drinking heavily and I could feel that things were finally changing between us. He had informed me earlier in the day that he and Victoria were officially going their separate ways artistically and that he was sad but ready to move on. With me."

I couldn't help my sad smile. It was hard to remember those exciting days without feeling a small bit of joy. How do you forget the exhiliration of your first love reciprocating your feelings? I don't think you can. Or should.

I continued, telling all about that night and how magical it was when James took me back to his place and we sat on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket an each other's limbs, finally confessing everything. I could feel his hands in my hair again, roaming lazily over my face as his whispered his deep desire for me. Now I sat on a very different couch as a very different girl with a very different boy, but I could smell the old familiar cologne of the first and my heart ached to be that fresh again.

I tried to relay to Edward how blissful that night seemed at the time. It was the first time my lips knew what James felt like. The first time I didn't have to curb my love for him into something that was innocent and platonic. It was the first time I felt like I had something set in stone, something I would never ever have to let go of.

Edward seemed to understand. Either that or he was very good at acting like he could relate to what the beginning of that relationship felt like. He didn't say anything but he nodded along and surprised me with his restraint of interruptions.

I dug into the relationship then, the four wonderful months that I thought were going to stretch into forever. I told him about how happy all of our friends had been for us. Even Rosalie who declared it, "about fucking time." I told him about how we were even more inseparable after it became official. How I would come home daily to flowers or cards or some other little gift that I didn't know I craved until I was deprived of them.

I told the story of the night James held me, when my father called me drunk and upset, telling me that I never loved him enough. That night was a hurrendous memory for me, up until the point I remember the image of James bursting through my door, wet from the rain and determined to wipe away all of my pain. He'd held me that night, closer than should be possible, tighter than should be comfortable, but just right. That night he told me I was perfect, just how I was supposed to be.

"_Do you love me?_" he'd asked.

"_Of course_," I responded, naturally, confused as to why he needed confirmation while my heart moured my relationship with my broken father.

"_Would you want me to be any different? Would you change even one thing about me?_"

"_No. I love you how you are,_" I'd breathed into his shirt, so grateful for his arms and legs and skin and bones.

And, as I sat in Edward's living room on a day far separated from the night I was recalling, I could still hear James' voice steady and sure and full of salvation.

"_That's exactly how I feel about you, Bella. If you changed anything, even one thing, you wouldn't be who I love. You wouldn't be you. And I couldn't live with that_."

I didn't realize I was crying until the tear reached half way down my cheek, tickling me with it's lithe motion down my skin.

It was only the one tear, nothing tissue worthy. But it was enough to make Edward look pained for me.

"That was a pretty defining moment in our relationship," I admitted as I rid myself of the offensive tear. "I mean, he was just so direct with me that night. Telling me that he thought I was perfect, maybe not in general but for him. In the end that's all that mattered for me because I felt the same."

"You are pretty damn wonderful," Edward said quietly. "I'd call you perfect on many levels."

"See, I've heard things like that before, that's my point with all of this. You may not always feel that way. It's so dangerous to say."

I shook my head, disagreeing with the whole idea of someone being able to say such strong words and then walk away from them without a look back.

"This is different," Edward said softly, squeezing my leg briefly.

My anger grew in that instant, finding fuel in his kind words. In reality it was probably over those same words I heard in my head, in a different voice. I coudln't help my building upset, though. This was where my apprehension with Edward came from, the similarities in what they said to me and what it made me feel in response. Like I wanted to get lost in it.

"James used to say those things to me. All the time. That we were 'different'. The first time was not long after the night I broke down over my father. It was the fist time we had sex."

It was a low blow, true. But I needed him to understand that this wasn't some simple boy that broke my heart. I may not be alone in the love-lost department. It's life. I know this.

But something in me was deeply effected by it, changed and turned around. And I was angry for myself and for every other person who'd been down this road.

His fist clenched in his hair. His eyes closed for a small amount of time, in an action that was trying to be disguised as a blink but was far too strained to pass off as one.

"That's probably the worst part of my memories. The intimate times. I had no regrets, though, even right after he left. I still can't say I do. I mean, I loved him. I wanted him to know me and have me in every way-"

A loud slamming sound cut me off. The hollow clank of the glass onto the wooden coffee table hung in the air well after Edward's hand released the now empty champagne bottle. He looked petulant and annoyed at both the bottle and the table.

"Feel better?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow at his antics.

"Just get to the part where he's a major Douche so we can both get to hating him again please."

"Oh, how sweet and sensitive of you. The part where my whole world fell to pieces in my favorite part to tell."

My voice was sourly sweet, twinged with the pain I felt at his insensitivity to what it was like for me to relive these emotions. We'd just discoverd his ability to feel envy, yes. That didn't mean he had to be selfish.

"I don't like how you look when you talk about that part of your relationship with him," he said with a tight voice. "Like it's been the best part of your life."

"Being intimate with someone I loved might have been the best part of my life," I replied, incredulous that he couldn't understand that.

"Fuck, Bella. That really sucks for me, you know? You're getting rather detailed with the stuff I don't need to know."

"I know that the lucky girl you deflowered wasn't the love of your life and I'm sorry you spent your whole entire existence up until now unfeeling, but you can at least try and accept the fact that I've been through something significant before."

We were both angry now, and I'm not completely sure why, but it almost felt good to have the release. I can't remember the last time I'd allowed myself to feel rage, and now I was letting it seep in for the second time in as many days.

"Thanks for the assessment on my soul, Dr. Phil, but that's not where my deep seeded issues lie. You're frolicking down memory lane with all of these great feelings about how it was to have sex with another man and in the past eight weeks I haven't so much as held your hand. Not because I haven't been man enough to try and be enough for you, but because you won't let me."

I stared at him, pissed and convicted. He was right and wrong all at the same time. He couldn't understand, yet he understood enough to see right through the armor I was trying to hold up.

"I thought you wanted to know the story," was my only defense.

"I do. But not the part where he's shared _that _with you."

"I haven't even seen him in months. I stopped loving him long before then. I'll never know him like that again, nor do I want to. It's not something to get pissed off about."

"It is, though, Bella. It is to me. Because I have all these images of him with you and you're sitting there, perfectly fine with the memory of him being everywhere, and damnit - I'm sitting here, real and ready for you, but I couldn't even reach my finger under the hem of your jeans and caress the skin of your calf if I wanted to. Because you've asked me not to. It's not fun, ok? I'm sorry if it's coming off as rude, but it's fucking hard to accept."

I stared at him with my mouth open for a few minutes. His eyes were dark and confident, more than likely the exact opposite of my own.

I felt shaken. His words were true. Insensitive, yes, but not false.

I thought I had it all together just a few months ago. I thought I was healing and moving on. I didn't think about James or desire him. I grew out of my love for him.

But I hadn't left him behind, in my past with the old love and the worn out memories. And now Edward was paying for it unfairly.

I still didn't know how to get past the fear of it all happening again. And it would be worse if Edward ever abandoned me. So much worse. Because just his touch threw me into a fit of feelings I'd never known before.

He eclipsed all other people I'd ever encountered, forcing them into a muted background that only highlighted reality. If I trusted him then I'd never trust them, because I know our relationship would be unusual and unexplainable and more real than anything I'd ever been able to dream up.

Before I could respond, in a yell or an apology I still wasn't sure, he was standing up from the couch.

"Where are you going?" I asked in an embarrassingly frantic voice.

_It's too much. This is what I was afraid of... the part where he realizes that I'm not different and unique, just unbearably afraid-_

"You're coming, too," he responded cooly, not smiling but not sounding as upset as he looked.

"Where?"

I stood as I asked, unsure as to why he was so eager to leave in the middle of our talk-turned-argument.

"The alleyway a few blocks down. Behind the Italian restaurant. We'll finish the talk there."

He turned and walked into a hallway where I guessed his bedroom was as I stood next to the couch, confused and agitated and just starting to realize that I was irrationally ready to follow him anywhere.

I honestly didn't know what else to do.

* * *

**This took way too long to get to you, I know. And you will always have my apologies for that. **

**This may not be my favorite chapter, but it's oh-so necessary. I hope you agree. **

**What place makes you feel safe?**

**Thank you so much for reading :)**

**LOVE YOUS**

**-Car**


	8. You're Too Cool

**CHAPTER 8 - You're Too Cool**

_"I can tell we'll never be safe_

_'Til the walls fall down"_

- The Zolas "You're Too Cool"

**Bella**

I silently followed Edward out his front door and down the sidewalk towards the alley he mentioned.

We were both still angry. That much was evident in our stiff postures and calloused eyes. It was palpable in the air between us and around us.

I was fairly sure his anger was directed at me. At my inability to make any sense.

I had no idea where my anger was directed, though. It was all over the place, just as the night before it had been. I was angry at myself for being unable to trust the boy who was always in front of me these days, offering everything. I was angry at James for leaving me with memories that are both the best and worst of my adult life. I was angry at Edward for being mean to me, but more so for being right. I was angry at life for allowing unfairness in general.

I was irrational and confused in my thoughts, and I wanted a release so badly it almost hurt. What could I do, though? Taking it out on Edward was the closest, most tangible option, but I did not want to do that. I had been close, though, possibly even venturing into that dangerous territory right before we left his condo for the alley.

Honestly, part of the reason why I wasn't just letting him have it right now was because he confused me into silence right before we left. He'd come out of his bedroom with a big cardboard box that he was now carrying down the street. The contents of the box were still a mystery to me and that had me thinking that perhaps I should just bottle the anger until I figured out what the hell he was up to.

He'd changed in his room; out of the Mick Jagger get up he'd been in since Mike's and into black jeans, a grey v-neck, and a plaid overshirt. I hated how good he looked in casual clothes. I pulled on the end of my hair a little bit and sighed to myself, knowing that there was no way my jeans and over-sized hoodie combo was in any way alluring.

Maybe he'd be better off without me, anyway. I'm not one for self-esteem issues, but compared to Edward Cullen any lady short of a super model would probably find themselves taking a few extra, calculating looks at their appearance.

We turned into the alley after a few mintues. It was an extremely cloudy day. The sky was dark grey and moody.

The buildings around us were tall. That combined with the shadowy sky made the area of the alley we had enterted into shaded and dark.

Edward lead me straight towards a huge dumpster half way down the alleyway. It sat along the back wall of what I knew to be a vacant building that was in between the Italian restaurant and what I think was some sort of mortage loan office building.

He bent over and set the box on the ground. A light clinking noise came from inside the cardboard as it slipped from his hands onto the dirty asphault.

He stood back up and turned to me, a tight smile on his face.

"Hold on," he said quickly, cutting me off before any questions could escape from my open mouth.

He jogged a few feet to the right and knocked on a green door that sat under a single light mounted to the wall.

It opened quickly and Edward greeted the man inside by name.

"Hey Marcus, is Aro here?" he asked, stretching his arm out and leaning against the door frame.

"Ah, yes! No problem, Eddie! Let me get my brother for you," the man inside responded. He was tall, lean, and dark. His eyes crinked at the corners in happy, stretching lines and his loud voice was saturated in a thick Italian accent. His apron was covered in a spattering of what were probably different sauces. His smile was infectious.

Marcus disappeared but his voice rang into the alleyway, "Aro! Eh, get over here! Edward from the Alleyway has come calling once again!"

Marcus' form was back in the doorway a second after and he was laughing merrily. Edward smiled past him at what I supposed was Aro.

"Edward! What can I do for you today, son? Don't tell me you have finally come to accept my job offer," another friendly voice preceeded another friendly looking guy.

This man was more filled out than Marcus in a solid, boxy sort of way. He had wavy black hair and a matching Italian accent, though his was smoother. Perhaps more Americanized.

"Your offer is tempting, Aro. But, as I keep telling you, the college art department is taking good care of me."

"Good care of you? Look what we have here, brother! The artist has become the court jester!" Marcus hit his brother in the stomach as the three men laughed, the two brothers whole-heartedly and Edward simply out of curtosy. They didn't notice how tight his eyes were like I did. "We know that your Papa is rolling in the dough, Eddie."

My eyes widened. Papa Cullen is rolling in the dough, huh? I guess it made sense when I really thought about it. We've never really discussed Edward's financial home life but he never seemed to have a care in the world concerning the ratio of his his lavish condo to his humble schedule teaching art at a community college. Also, his sister had said something about her sweater being Chanel and he had what I now knew to be an endless supply of Vans and Converse.

"I still don't believe it," Aro joked with a dismissive wave of his hand. "He'll be knocking on this door for more than girl advice and a quick to-go order soon. I've got an apron in the back with your name on it, just in case."

The borthers were chuckling again but this timeEdward didn't join in.

Instead he was now focused on me, just as much as I was focused on him.

His eyes were wider than normal when they met mine, holding a mixture of alarm and amusement.

"Girl advice?" I mouthed at him, quirking an eyebrow.

He shrugged, smirked, and ran a hand through his hair.

And that's when I was discovered.

"Eddie! You're beauty is here and you haven't said anything? You've been holding out on us, eh?"

Marcus' voice was loud and warm, filling the cold alleyway with everything it wasn't.

I grew a bit uncomfortable under the stares that were now entirely directed at me.

"Come on over, Bella. It's easier to comply than to resist," Edward sighed as he beckoned me over with his words and a wave of his arm.

I walked over towards the open door slowly, with what I hoped was a polite smile on my face.

This day was getting more and more odd. I wasn't sure what to tell my insides. They either needed to calm the frick down or keep trudging down the "freak out completely" path. I'd jumped from a silly, giggly breakfast with Jasper, to many moody, thick covnerstations with Edward, to this. A semi-awkward introduction to two Italian men that were smiling at me like I was the little orphan Annie coming home to Daddy Warbucks.

I stopped when I reached the spot next to Edward and continued to smile dumbly at Marcus and Aro.

"Gentlemen," Edward began in a formal tone, "_this_ is Bella."

He waved his hand in front of me, as if showcasing my form to an audience.

"Bella," his voice continued, a bit tighter than normal. "These are the Volturi brothers, Marcus and Aro. They own Bella Italia."

"You own the restaurant?" I asked, surprised. Rose, Jess and I ate lunch at the restaurant every so often. The food was undoubtedly good but the atmosphere always seemed more appropriate for a formal dinner rather than a casual friend lunch date.

"We trick our cousin into doing most of the work, but normally we claim it as ours, yes," Aro responded to me with a kind smile.

"We have been begging Eddie for weeks to bring his Bella to our Bella," Marcus interjected as he waved from me to the building they were leaning out of, laughing once more. It was a joyous sound that I was starting to realize he didn't need any excuse to make. He was generally just a happy guy.

"Funny, Eddie's never mentioned you to me," I replied, feeling a little lighter around our new company.

"Edward, we are hurt!" Aro played, holding his hand to his heart.

"No, I see the reason," Marcus huffed. "I would not want to share this beauty with other more sphisticated, attractive men, either."

Everyone got a bit of a laugh out of that, and in that moment I was truly grateful for Edward's impromtu visit to the back door of Bella Italia.

Though I still had no idea what we were doing here.

"We love joking, but I'm afraid my brother and I must end the fun for now," Aro announced, clearing his throat a little bit. "It's a slow hour at the restaurant but we still have much to do to prepare for the dinner rush..."

"Yes, of course, we won't hold you up," Edward replied respectfully. "Bella and I, we're having a pretty shitty day. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind us using the dumpster for just a bit?"

His words didn't make any sense to me, but it appeared that I was the only one on the outside of things. The three men's eyes shot towards the dumpster and the cardboard box sitting next to it and back.

Without any further explination Marcus laughed a short, "ho-ha" sound and Aro smiled knowingly as he told Edward, "Of course."

Neither appeared confused or alarmed at such an odd request.

Edward pushed off forme the door fram and nodded once.

"Thanks guys. If the dumpster goes well I'll bring Bella in for dinner."

With that he started walking away from the door, nodding for me to follow along.

My legs held me in place for a moment longer. I think my mind just wanted to quit trying to make sense of life.

"Bella, make sure Eddie is nice to you so that we can have the pleasure of serving you dinner! We will get you the Sweetheart Special just as usual. It is your favorite, no?"

I sadly shook my head at Marcus.

"Sorry, I've never had the Sweetheart Special..."

"But Eddie picks it up for dinner all the time! It is made for two, eh. You must be the one sharing his fork."

I giggled a little bit at the mentions of sharing Edward's fork and, despite a large effort on my part not to, blushed as I shook my head.

"I haven't been sharing the Special with Bella, Marcus. Back off," Edward yelled over his shoulder.

"Fine, fine. I just assumed... But you _will _share it tonight! I have made my best alfredo yet!" Marcus declared, giving me and Edward's back a stern point before laughing once more and shutting the door.

I walked quickly over to Edward in an attempt to catch up with his long strides. I approached him just as he was bending down to open the mystery box.

"Jasper?" I guessed.

"Yeah."

I laughed under my breath and his low tones eventually joined me.

So I was off earlier this morning when I accused Edward and Jasper of having tea parties. Apparently they had Sweethaeart Special take-out candle lit dinners instead.

"Shut up," Edward damanded as my chuckles continued. "The Special comes with two servings of alfredo, any style, two slices of bread, and two brownies for dessert. It's cheaper than buying all of that shit separate. Jasper and I both agree that it's a good fucking deal."

He stood up and turned, looking down a little bit since we were standing pretty close.

We were still on edge with each other despite the minor distractions that had come into play.

His eyes were lush and dancing with so many things that weren't very happy but were very alive.

"They do only give you one beverage, though," he admitted with a sigh. "And two straws."

I smiled for him, for his effort to joke one last time before the seriousness took over again. And because I could him and Jasper Because I could feel it seeping back in through the cracks in our already fragmented foundation.

"What are we doing here?" I asked as I continued to look up at him, greedy for as much of his eyes as I could get.

"We are here to be angry."

Edward bend over once again and crouched next to the cardboard box. He lifted one flap of the top and revealed it's contents to me.

The box was filled to the brim with glass bottles. Most were clear and appeared to be old beer bottles, but there were a few dark hues mixed in, browns and greens that could have housed alcohol or sodaor any number of beverages before they were drained and fated to live amongst each other in a house of cardboard.

I wasn't sure what to say so I just watched him silently as he wrapped his hand around one of the many clear bottles. He stood and walked over to the large, green dumpster. With his free hand he hoisted up the heavy metal lid, causing it to fall back and rest against the concrete wall and sit somewhat upright.

Edward backed up and then stared at the metal structure for a few moments, tossing the bottle up with the one hand that was holding it, spinning it so it turned slightly in the air before landing back in his hand.

"The Volturi brothers are great for a laugh. But as fun as it is too shoot the shit with them, our little intro sesh didn't distract me from the images plaguing my head."

He spoke strong and clear, straight at the dumpster. By the time his sentence was finished the bottle was no longer getting tossed up and down. Instead it found itself clutched in the tight hold of Edward's right hand.

Without any notice he drew his arm back and quickly snapped it forward, releasing the bottle in a violent, swift motion.

The bottle hit the open top of the dumpster, coliding glass and metal with a clamorous _crash _that lasted longer than I thought it should have.

Once the noise settled I focused back on Edward who was standing in the same spot, rubbing his right palm up and down right below his hip bone on his pants and nodding his head very minutely, as if to himself.

"Come here, Bella. And bring some bottles. One for me, one for you."

I did it, not wanting to argue with him because this was all so intriguing to me.

I grabbed two bottles, one clear and one dark green, then walked over and stood on his right side.

He took the clear bottle from my hand and began the incessant tossing up and down once again.

"It's not even James in my mind," he mused with a sour chuckle. "I mean, how could it fucking be? I've never seen his face before."

With another quick motion he pulled his arm back and threw the second bottle against the dumpster.

_CRASH_

"But, as I said before, it doesn't matter, does it? Any other guy could have been in his place and it would drive me just as crazy."

I swallowed hard and looked down into my hands which were both craddling the bottle I'd chosen for myself.

"I've never felt this out of control before, Bella. I want to break every other pair of hands that have ever touched you. When you talk about James with you, _that_ way..."

He didn't finish his sentence. Instead a low, growl sounding noise rumbled in his chest and he snatched the bottle from my hands and threw it. Hard.

_CRASH_

"I thought that was supposed to be mine," I said lowly, glancing up at him.

"Yeah, sorry. I needed it. You don't seem to be angry very anymore. Perhaps I should have come alone."

"Oh no, I'm still angry," I argued. Because I was. Still all sorts of upset about how messed up everything in me seemed to be. I was swarming with memories and fears and anticipation.

"Show me," Edward said softly, nearly in my ear.

I hadn't noticed him moving away from me and back again. He was now partly behind me, holding a bottle over my shoulder.

I looked down at the bottle, turning my head a bit to do so. My hand reached up and took it from him. Again I craddled it, making no move to throw it because it just seemed so unlike me to throw glass bottles at a metal dumpster in the middle of an alleyway.

"What are you angry about?" he asked in the same low volume, still close. "Because it's ok if you're not. If it's subsided and I'm alone in this feeling, it's ok, Bella. Maybe I'm the only one that needs to be here. Releasing."

"No. I'm angry about James."

I said the words loud. Maybe too loud. But it felt good to say, to get into the universe.

I'd spent so much time trying to convince myself that I was over it, over him. And I was over him. I didn't want him back or miss him anymore. But I hadn't ever stopped and let myself just feel mad about being wronged. Sure, at one time it had coursed through me on top of everyday things. But ever since I stopped being devestated over him, I'd been too busy trying to forget my life with him I'd never let myself be truly upset over how him discarding me made me feel.

"What about him?"

Edward's voice remained smooth, steady and low, egging me on.

My grip on the bottle tightened just a bit.

"He left me. Without warning or reason. It wasn't fair."

I felt the familiar sadness well up at the memory of that day, that morning it all came crashing down.

The sorrow was no longer new or lingering, but one never really forgets how they feel the first moment their heart truly knows what loss is.

Edward was standing silent behind me, no longer the voice buzzing in my ear. I'm not sure if he was battling his own rage still, or patiently waiting for mine. Either way, I didn't need his coercing any longer. I was ready to get it all out, for him and for me.

"We'd been happy for so many months. Perfect, and content, and so in love it felt too good to be true. Everything was so damn easy with him. So damn wonderful."

My grip tightened again. My pale skin was a stark contrast against the dark color of the bottle.

"One morning I woke up in our apartment, the one he begged me to get with him less than a month before, alone. I shouldn't have been alone and I instantly knew something felt wrong. It was Sunday morning. Sundays we slept in and cooked breakfast together and watched a movie or listened to a record."

I stopped to take a breath and I could see it all so clearly in my mind for the first time in months.

The way the sun was coming through the blinds in the most beautiful way that day, mocking what I was about to deal with.

The way I rolled over and reached for his hand, or chest, or face, or anything. But my hand found nothing but matress and, as it continued it's search up further, pillow.

And a foreign object: paper.

I rememebred the way my mind almost made up the sounds of breakfast being cooked down the hall before I sat up, opened my eyes, and woke up. Really woke up and heard nothing because I was alone.

"It wasn't a normal Sunday, though," a harsh version of my voice spoke. "I sat up, wondering where he was. Wondering why things weren't the way they were supposed to be. There was a note on his pillow. Where _he_ was supposed to be. A piece of paper. Not my flesh and blood boyfriend. Not the man that had declared himself my unofficial fiance. Not the bastard that told me he loved me and took literally everything I had to offer. A piece of fucking paper was there instead."

My hands were beginning to quiver. It wasn't a visible shake but they were trembling on the inside, the blood under my skin coming alive in a violent sort of way.

It had been so unfair.

I saw myself on that day, now from the outside looking in.

I sat in the discheveled bed he'd been in with me just hours before, whispering words of love and forever. My hair had to have been the usual mess it is when I wake up. I was wearing the red silk negligee that matched the red piece of paper I held between my hands.

As the memory flashed in my mind I watched my face fall as the Bella in my memory read the simple sentences over and over again. I watched the way I looked around the room after digesting the words, foolishly searching for something tangible that negated the horrid note. I watched it fall from my hands and come to rest on the white quilt that layed haphazardly over only one of my legs.

And as I watched my face grow frantic and sad, disbelieving and desperate, I remembered how the violent trembling in my blood had felt that day. The same way it felt right now, pushing around my fingers as they choked the life out of the glass bottle.

"_'Baby, your love is good, but together ours is not enough. I've found more up north. You'll find more soon.'_ That's all it said. What the hell does that even mean?!"

I was definitely yelling by the end of my memory and before I could really even tell it was happening my hand was pulling back and then thrusting forward.

_CRASH_

The very satisfying sound shattering of glass hung in my ears well after it was all settled in the bottom of the dumpster. Only the bottom half of the bottle had broken apart completely, but it was enough.

"Holy crap, that felt good," I said in an exhale, feeling a bit energized.

I held my hand out silently, trusting that the boy next to me would comply with my wordless request.

My fingers closed around the neck of a clear bottle that still had remnants of it's label scattered over it's body.

"It's not fair! No one should be allowed to tell you they love you one minute, and then disappear the next, leaving the responsiblity of breaking your heart to a freaking piece of paper. I gave him everything I had, and I would have given everything I gained!"

_CRASH_

A new bottle was waiting for my hand as I held it out again.

My thoughts began flying in shattered fragments around my head, mirroring the way the bits of glass ricocheted off of the hard metal before me.

"My friends and mother told me something better would come along. That I could still find someone else and be happy. But I never _asked_ for anyone else! I was happy with what I had! I felt so, so stupid. And worthless! And who the hell is _he_ to make me feel that way? After making me feel so damn good for so many months, after _begging_ me to believe that I was so fucking perfect for him, what the hell kind of right did he have deciding that I wasn't enough?!"

_CRASH_

_CRASH_

My head whipped to the left after the second, unexpected crash and I found Edward standing next to me, breathing heavily, rubbing his newly empty hand against his jeans.

"You said he made you feel 'so damn good'. It made the images pop up again," his rough voice explained as his right hand vaguely gestured towards his brain.

He walked past me and began dragging the box that still had a dozen or so bottles in it over to where we were standing. Once it got it into place directly in front of us he stood and handed me another clear bottle as he started tossing a brown one up and down, up and down, in the steady turning motion I now knew he did as habit.

I held my bottle by the neck with my right hand and popped the end of my thumb in and out of the small opening at the top.

"I'm so angry at myself for letting Jake fill the void I felt after James in a way that hurt him."

_CRASH_

"I'm fucking angry at Jake for existing."

_CRASH_

"I'm angry at my mother for ignoring my problem all summer, and not comforting me like a normal damn person. Instead she flaunted her new boy toy around, forcing me to assure her how happy they looked."

_CRASH_

"I'm fucking angry at every bastard who got to look at you in Pheonix."

_CRASH_

"I'm angry at my dad for letting my mom walk out when I was younger. For not loving her the right way. And then for letting himself fall to pieces and becoming someone I don't even recognize or like anymore."

_CRASH_

"I'm pissed at Alice for being too damn scared of Jasper, and not moving out here when I need her advice because she's the only fucking person I've ever trusted before I met you. I think I've been a bad influence on her happiness."

_CRASH_

"I'm angry at Maria for making Jasper sad."

_CRASH_

"I'm fucking angry about the fact that I don't know who the hell Maria is, but she's probably part of that blueberry bullshit you and Jasper love the fuck out of!"

_CRASH_

"And I'm going to fly off the fucking handle very soon if I don't get to get as close to you as the other men in your life have, Bella. I'm just going to loose my shit."

_CRASH_

"I _need_ to touch you. Every fucking day I need to, and I can't. And I'm pissed."

_CRASH_

"Well I'm angry at _you_ for making me feel so many things when I touch you, Edward! I hate you for that!"

_CRASH_

"You do not hate me."

"No, I don't. But sometimes I want to because I bet that would be a lot easier. It makes me angry that you make me feel so out of control. Jasper says it's love."

"You're angry at me for being real. For being a legitimate part of your life that effects you. That's not a crime, Bella. Accept it!"

_CRASH_

"Wait. Jasper told you that you love me?"

"Yes. And I almost believe him."

"Shit. Well, don't... don't even think of telling me that you love me until you are absolutely fucking sure of it. Because you're my James, Bella. If you tell me those words one day and then leave a rejection note the next I'll die. I'll just fucking die."

_CRASH_

"I most definitely didn't die when James left me."

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair and pushed my thumb in and out of the bottle I just picked up and currently had in a choke hold.

"But I feel like I would if you left, too. Ok? And that doesn't make me angry, exactly. But it does scare the crap out of me."

There were no crashes. No more angry tones. We'd been yelling at each other in the moments before, but that time was now gone and I think we both felt it. Now we were both left stranded together in the alleyway with nothing but the last few surviving bottles and a bunch of angry confessions to think over.

We stood side by side, staring at the open dumpster for a few mintues as we attempted to catch our breath and our thoughts.

Despite the adrenaline running through my veins, I felt a million times calmer. I felt like the physical action of careening glass towards metal was a very effective gateway for the emotional release I needed. I felt the remnant of tears on my cheeks, because a few had definitely spilled out. There weren't sorrowfull. Just full, angry, hot reflections of the anger I'd been hiding from, leaking out of me in the tiny, swelled drops from eyes.

And now I felt better.

I peeked up at Edward who was just a foot away from me, directly to my left, and saw that he was not holding a bottle, or crying, or doing any of the things I was. He was simply staring at me.

I held his gaze and boiled all of my newly released emotions down to one fine point at my thumb as it continued it's motion in, and out, in, and out of the mouth of the bottle. I wondered if Edward had been the one to drain this particular bottle. If his lips had once touched the spot my skin now was.

"I hate him for making me so damn scared of you," I breathed sincerely.

Then I turned from him and sent the final bottle of the evening flying towards it's broken fate.

_CRASH_

Again, nothing but silence followed the fragmented noise.

When I turned to Edward his eyes were pleading, wide and still. He'd calmed himself and I now understood why he brought me here to do this. It was simple and odd, but strangely effective.

"Fix it," he demanded, taking a small step towards me. "Fix your trust so that I can have it. I've earned it, and you already have mine."

"I don't know what to do," I replied, helplessly. Pathetically.

I felt drained. Purged of anger and sort of tired of feeling anything in general.

"You have to talk to him."

"To James? No thank you."

"I really think you should. Have you ever been able to tell him how badly what he did fucked you up? You said you saw him a few months ago."

"He was in town for a show with his new band. He told Jess that she should come and bring her friends or something crappy like that. When she relayed the message it just came across as, 'Hey guys let's go see this out of state band play at the pub tonight'."

Edward snorted in disapproval.

"Yeah. One of her specialties is not understanding the importance of fine details. Anyway, we showed up and he was there. At first I freaked out. Then Rose body slammed me against the side door and told me to man up or some crap like that, so I stayed. And I eventually felt better. It felt good to be able to be in the same room as him and still function and have fun with my friends. He smiled at me from across the room once. I smiled back. I didn't feel like a confrontation was needed. It was fine. I was drunk off my ass, but I felt fine."

"But that's only because you weren't letting yourself feel."

Holy shit, he was right. And I was just now starting to understand, because this was the first time since I spent all of those long, hot days in Pheonix forgetting about James that I really let it all go and just _felt_.

"I don't even know where he is..."

"Jess might. She knew when his band was coming into town."

"True."

I stood there for a moment just trying to imagine myself having a conversation with him. It was hard to picture because it kept changing. In one flash I saw myself perched across from him in a diner we used to frequent, sitting small and still in the booth. In the next I was yelling at him. In the next punching him.

"Bella, I need you to do this. _You _need you to do this! Please. _Try_ it. Maybe if you get some closure with the Douche you can let me show you how much I want you. I won't touch you until then, until you want me to be really, really fucking real, because I can't sugar coat what I want to be for you. I've used words to try and convince you of my feelings, but those don't seem to do it for you."

He smiled a little bit. It wasn't full and it was a little sad, but it was still gorgeous.

And for the hundredth time it confirmed that he was worth it.

"Ok. I'll call Jess and see what she can do."

"Thank you!"

He nearly cheered the sentiment and his whole face lit up the instant I complied. His exuberance forced a smile out of me that froze on my face as his hand came up and brushed against the side of my cheek.

Instantly, my skin was on fire. Tingling and flaming and altogether warm, wonderful sensations ran down my neck, through my spine, into my bones.

"Come on," he grunted an second later as he pushed the almost empty box over towards the stone wall while I was still standing there tingling, "let's get some Italiano. Then we can go back to my place and drink by the window."

I feel into stride beside him, feeling good.

A plan was in motion.

I was going to go have nice dinner with Edward Cullen, my not-so-boyfriend-boyfriend. Then I was going to accompany him back to his place, probably meet up with his Bromance, and drink cheep liquor at a window.

Then I'd face my past.

And then I'd face Edward Cullen's reality.

* * *

**What's your favorite restaurant?**

**Mine is the Blue Bayou. It's a restaurant in Disneyland, inside the Pirates of the Carribbean ride.**

**Thank you so much for reading :)**

**LOVE YOUS**

**-Car**

**P.S. I humbly ask you to forgive my mistakes in grammar, spelling, etc. Any mishap is simply due to rushing to post. I don't use a beta, and I don't feel that my writing timeline (I know I take a long time to update sometimes, thanks to real life) would benefit from adding another person into the equation, haha. My stories have always done well (THANK YOU) and I don't see myself changing my ways anytime soon, again due to the amount of time I already take, and my own personal paranoia about sharing my work before posting. So, please just excuse the errors. The last thing I want is for people to think I don't care about what I post. Sometimes that's why I take so long to give you more. Thank you :)**


	9. Piece Of My Heart

**CHAPTER 9 - Piece of My Heart**

_"I want you to come on, come on, come on, come on and take it,_

_Take another little piece of my heart now, baby,_

_Break another little bit of my heart now, darling, yeah. _

_Hey! Have another little piece of my heart now, baby, yeah._

_You know you got it if it makes you feel good,_

_Oh yes indeed."  
_

- Janis Joplin "Piece of My Heart"

**Edward**

_Deep down in your heart I guess you know that it ain't right, n__ever never never never never never never hear me when I cry at night. __Baby, I cry all the time! _**_"I sometimes wonder what the fuck I'm doing," he says. "I'll read a little some _**_I'll say come on, come on, come on, come on, yeah take it! __Take another little piece of my heart now, baby. Break another little **"I'll read a little something and die a thousand times in my own mind, visualizing the death of my ca **Well, You know you got it, child, if it makes you feel good!** the death of my career or respect for me and my music... I don't want to detach. I don't want **I need you to come on, come on, come on, come on and take it, **don't want to go live in a gated community. **Take another little piece of my heart now, baby! (break a) **So I will continue to make these **Break another little bit of my heart, darling, yeah. **world wide dignity **Have another little piece of my **mistakes** heart now, baby, **as often as it takes **You know you **to not make **__got it_ **them anymore." ****_How Mayer got to be like this is kind of _**_Waaaaaaahhh! Take it!_

"Fuck."

"What's wrong? Is Lady Gaga number one again?"

"No, thank Muddy."

I sighed and tossed the Rolling Stone issue featuring John fucking Mayer on the cover onto the desk next to _my _chair while yanking the ear buds out of my ears. Bella sat on her bed, staring at me with her hands stilled in Marie's half done up-do. The question concerning my behavior sat in her eyes.

"You cannot listen to Janis Joplin while reading about John Mayer," I explained, waving disgustedly to the ear buds and then in turn to the discarded magazine.

She laughed at me and then went back to twisting locks of Marie Doll's red hair into some sort of clippy prom-type look. Anthony sat next to me on the desk and we both watched our women in silent awe. I can't say I was quite as content as he was, however.

Anthony Doll was a lucky bastard. He had his woman and knew where he stood with her exactly. They were officially husband and wife. I'd married them myself not two hours earlier. I know, playing priest to two doll heads isn't exactly the most exciting past time. But I was bored at the time and trying to get Bella to laugh after pissing her off because I said something about Patti Smith being better than Janis Joplin. That also explains the Janis Joplin/John Mayer debaucle I'd just had. Part of my redemption was my agreement to listen to The Jop for the remainder of the day.

I was holding off on my own proposals for the time being (which was really fucking hard, by the way. The girl is just so damn marry-able) so I compromised by wedding our two little counter-parts. It still creeped me out that she kept doll heads laying around her room all the time but what were we do to? She needed them for school and I needed her. So Mr. and Mrs. Doll and I had to play nice.

I stood up and docked her iPod into the iHome I'd brought over to her apartment last night. This place was always too fucking quiet these days since we were on the brink of what was hopefully going to be a breakthrough in our non-relationship.

Janis' raspy voice filled the small bedroom up instantly and it was nice to have the the room filled with something besides all the damn tension that was driving Bella to twist Marie's hair too tightly and me to freak over not being able to read an article about John Mayer.

Today was the fateful day that Douche James came riding back into our - well, Bella's life. She was going to have dinner or coffee or something stupidly civil with him, per my request. It was an idea I wasn't happening to be too keen on now that D-Day had arrived.

I've never really doubted myself before. Again, this is another new opportunity Bella's presence has provided me with.

Don't get me wrong, I honestly believe that my lady needs to get some actual closure with the Douche. I wouldn't have asked her to do something she so clearly doesn't want to do if I wasn't pretty sure that it would help her. And me. And _us_.

I just didn't have a guarentee that this wouldn't backfire on me.

I'd narrowed it down to about three possible outcomes:

1. She meets with the Douche and he's still - _surprise!_ - a royal Douche. She realizes he isn't worth being so fragile for and runs into my arms with a smile and the ability to handle me putting my hands all over her.

2. She meets with the Douche and he's reformed. No longer a man who would dare break a lady's heart via hand written note, he's become a man that can apologize for his wrong doings and gallantly tell her it's ok to love again. _Me_. He'll tell her that it's ok to love_ me_.

3. She meets with the Douche and it doesn't matter what the hell he's become, merely being in his presence brings up all of her past emotions and she takes about thirty more steps backwards and decides she doesn't want anything to do with any male, ever, so she gives me my red converse back, makes me sleep in my own bed all the time, and then becomes a lesbian. (In which case I will force Alice to become a lesbian too, sorry Jasper, and I will pay my baby sister to marry my Bella just so I can still have her in my life)

Clearly I'm rooting for either option one or two. I don't care which happens as long as the result is her still wanting me. Of course I'm not really rooting for him to be a jerk to her. But whatever is going to help her move on from the fear of every man treating her the way Douche James did is fine by me.

**xXx xXx xXx**

"Whatever is going to help her move on from the fear of every man treating her the way Douche James did is fine by me!"

"That seems really insincere, Edward."

"I think you mean _insensitive_. And you're right. It is. But Bella makes me irrational so I don't really care."

Jessica threw me a confused look and then went back to trying to attach Pancakes' new pink rhinestone collar to his neck. He was not interested, of course, and was instead jumping around on the floor playing with my feet. I was aware that moving my toes in my shoes wasn't helping Jessica's collar endeavors. But the damn thing was pink. With rhinestones. And Pancakes is a_ boy_. A brotha's gotta help a brotha' out, right?

"This damn dog never sits still," she growled under her breath.

I used my ninja-stealth reflexes tograsp him around his middle and held him still as she finally got the offending object clasped around his neck. I've learned very little about Jessica. One thing I do know is that her voice doesn't get growly very often and when it does it's trouble.

"Thanks," she mumbled as she took Pancakes from my arms and reclined back into the chair next to me. "I didn't mean to get upset with him, you know. I love Pancakes almost more than I love Michael."

Her voice had turned playful again and I waved her off with a flick of my hand in her direction.

I love her ecstatic ball of fur but I wasn't here to talk Pancakes.

After Bella left her apartment to meet with James I freaked a little bit. Jasper's cell phone took a bath in his cleansing bowl or whatever he calls it the other day so getting in touch with him was out. I didn't want to hang out with Emmett to pass the time because I wanted to at least try and relax. And I couldn't paint because I knew it would just become angry, frustrated, nervous red streaks ruining a perfectly good canvas.

I wasn't in a drinking-by-the-window mood because I wasn't devestated or with particularly interesting company (The two instances in which I _am_ immediately in a drinking-by-the-window mood).

Somehow I came to the conclusion that maybe a walk would help me.

I grabbed my smokes and a hoodie and hit the streets. It wasn't raining and my legs needed to be moving in time with my mind. I knew to be back at Bella's in at least an hour's time so that I could receive her in any state that she returned to me in. (Again, a re-cap for the class: Option 1 or 2 would be preferrable)

Somewhere between steps ten and eleven of my walk I realized that it was a bad fucking idea to take a walk. What if I ended up where the Douche and my Bella were? I didn't know where they were meeting up. Surely I couldn't contain my fist from being formally indroduced to his face. And previous experience has taught me that Bella doesn't like my fist meeting anyone's face, at least not with her approval first.

So I detoured and ended up in front of Michael Newton's mansion condo. While putting out my first cigarette of the walk an idea hit me.

Jessica.

Jessica Stanley knew about James, possibly more than anyone in Seattle these days. She's the one that got Bella in touch with him. She's the one with answers about what I could expect.

So here I sit in the back yard with the woman of the hour. The woman with answers. The woman that is very easily distracted by a five pound ball of cute fur.

"As I was saying," I continued, taking out another cigarette and offering her one in turn, which she took, "I don't care if he is still an asshole, I just want her to get over what he did to her so I can have her now."

"He wasn't an asshole before. Who told you that?"

"_Who_ told me that? Jessica, this is the guy who left Bella in shambles! No one had to _tell _me anything. But, when they did, it turns out he left her all alone in their apartment with a fucking 'I can't do this anymore' piece of paper. _I'm_ not even that fucked. I at least tell the pretty ladies I destroy that I'm not going to be around anymore face to face."

I was half joking with that last statement. I don't believe that I've ever gotten close enough to anyone to deem my disappearance from their life worthy of destruction. I do know I've left some mighty disappointed females in my wake. And I do know that I've every honourably ended things with each one of them, at least going as far as explaining myself and my defects.

"Ok, yes. What he _did_ was shitty," she complied, turning her face to me and noding slightly,"but who he was wasn't asshole-ish at all. If he was still an ass do you think I'd keep in touch with him?"

She kind of had a point. But I didn't know her that well. In fact, I felt kind of fucking weird lounging around in Michael's backyard with her due to my extreme lack of knowing anything about her. But it was sort of calming me down. We were side by side in the two lounge chairs facing the gazeebo and just laying and smoking with someone was giving my nerves a sort of peace.

"Well I'm on Team Bella so to me he's a grade A ass."

"Hey, I'm on Team Bella, too. She's, like, my best friend. I've chewed James out plenty of times for what he did and I made sure he didn't come back around Bella afterwards, either. To protect her."

"Wait, Bella told me that you're the one that made them all go to the Douche's show a while ago-"

"Oh yeah, that. That was totally planned. I knew Bella would be a little sad or whatever, but come on. What she went through that night was nothing compared to what James went through seeing _her_. I conjured up that little get together up for her benefit, though she'll never know it."

She turned to me and used the hand holding the cigarette to pull her large, round, white sunglasses down her nose a bit so she could give me a meaningful look, telling me that Bella was never to know that night was for her benefit.

"You made some ridiculous diabolical plan to flaunt fragile Bella in front of The Douche?" I asked, incredulous. "That hurt her."

"I know that. God, don't you listen? I said that I _knew_ it would make her sad but no one really knows what it did to him except for me. I don't know why but he came to me for advice and stuff about Bella throughout their whole relationship so we were pretty close. I think it's because he was too scared to get within five feet of Rosalie."

We both chuckled a little bit and I can't say I didn't understand. Luciferess was not the best personification of pleasant company.

"Anyway, we formed this bond or whatever, and suddenly James and Bella break up. I didn't know it was coming so I don't know if he'd been panning it or whatever... but suddenly she's a freaking mess and he's emailing me nearly everyday telling me things to do to make her feel better. Her favorite flavour of ice cream, movies that cheer her up, all this random shit that I'm supposed to do to clean up his mess."

"You sound pissed about it."

"I _was _pissed. Just because I've had life kind of easy people think I'm dumb and that they can use me to do things they don't want to do. I've always been super-nice Jessica. I-love-everyone Jessica. Sure Mike, I'll-wait-for-you-for-ten-years Jessica. It's bull and it pisses me off."

"You've let yourself get that way, honey," I informed her softly since I'm always honest with people. I blew a line of smoke slowly and cautiously through my lips while I spoke and glanced sideways at her.

Pancakes was asleep on her stomach and she appeared to be staring straight ahead though under her giant bug glasses. I suppose she could have been looking at me sideways as well but I didn't think so.

"No matter how it made me feel I did it," she continued after a moment of silence, "but not because I really am any of those Jessicas. I did it despite my attempt not to be used anymore because Bella deserves better than what he did and I would have done anything to help her. She's never seen me that way everyone else does and I think that's why I love her so much."

"Bella's good to everyone," I sighed as I put out my cigarette.

"Yeah. She really tries to be. Except for you."

That one caught me off guard.

"Bella was made for me," I defended immediately, this time turning my whole head towards her.

She laughed a little bit and there may even have been an eye roll happening under the giant sunglasses.

"You're ridiculous!" she laughed.

"It's been said, yes. But I'm not the one sitting here saying that Bella's a bad person-"

"Hey, I said nothing about her being a bad person. She's a damn Saint most of the time. But I didn't say anything about who she is as a person, did I? I said she's bad _to you_. Like, specifically."

"Well you're damn wrong-"

"No I'm not. I was right about Michael hurting himself when he went on that needless hiking expidition with his father last year, I was right about Pancakes being afraid of the dark, and I'm right about this. You just don't see it because you're in lo-"

"Nope. Don't," I stopped her, holding up my hand towards her and everything. Just to make sure she really did shut her big, loose, nonsense talking mouth.

"What's wrong?" she asked in that girly way that girls do when they know exactly what's "wrong".

"Don't say the L word, please. We aren't going there yet."

"_You_ aren't or _she_ isn't?" she asked, using it to prove her fucked up (and might I add _wrong_) point.

"_We_ aren't. Collectively. Bella and I. We aren't ready to be throwing around four letter atomic bombs quite yet. I can't even hold her fucking hand."

"Fine. We'll just pretend that no one L Word's anyone yet. Fine. You're getting stuck in the shallow end of this dating pool."

"I've officially stopped listening."

"Oh my God, Edward. Ok. We don't have to talk about it. I thought you came here to try and figure more of Bella out, but I guess not."

I didn't take the bait because I really did want to be done listening. There was no way my Bella was bad to me. She was a human being working through issues. If that classifies someone as "bad" then hell, we're all fucking abominable.

Instead I rested my head back against the head rest of the lounge chair and shut my eyes. Maybe a nap was in order. I'm the King of fifteen minute cat-naps and going comotose for a few mintues sounded rather ideal at the moment.

I could still feel her looking at me though. Wanting me to receive her absurd Bella's Bad To Me lore as fact.

"Yep. That's just fine, Edward," she continued even though I'd closed my eyes,"You go to sleep and try not think about how she's stringing you along without a commitment-"

"Not true," I murmured with closed eyes,"she knows I'm not going anywhere. I've told her that I'm committed."

"No commitment from her, I mean."

My brows raised in surprise.

Huh.

Apparently in all of my fucked up experience with very short-term relationships with girls I've never really thought about _them_ not commiting. It's always been something I avoided and had to make excuses for. I'm not a dumbass, but I guess on this one I've just been trained to assume that girls and commitment were synonymous.

"Shit. I, uh, always thought she'd just sort of automatically be committed."

"Even though she won't let anyone refer to you as her boyfriend? Including you? And what about the no touching thing?"

"Titles don't mean shit so I haven't been concerned about that. I just assumed that she was scared of labeling things. The no-touchy rules fucking suck but we're working those out and she's worth it."

"Ah. Maybe _that's _why you let her get away with so much..." she though out loud, clearly trying to bait me again.

I took it.

What the hell? I still had about twenty mintues until I had to be back at Bella's anyway. What else was there to do?

"Why do I let her get away with so much?" I asked with a sigh, letting my disinterest show in my tone.

"She's the first one that's ever been worth it."

I opened my eyes and looked at her so that she'd really pay attention to my next words.

"That she is. So I don't give a shit about whether or not I have to wait to hold her hand or kiss her or whatnot. I'll do it."

"I like that. Still. It's not very fair. Or right."

"Why do you care so much?" I finally asked, growing annoyed with this topic.

"Because I want to see Bella get better. And I don't want her wasting a hot piece of ass like you."

It was in that moment I knew I really enjoyed the company of Jessica Stanely. And I'd been on the fence about this one.

But she was honest and real when she found it necessary and I appreciated that. I was actually seeing a side of her I rather liked, despite the heinous things she was saying. This girl didn't do the ditzy thing for fun or attention, she was just busy living in her own head. And that's just fine. Alice has accused me of getting wrapped up in my own head more than once. And apparently while Jessica was wandering around in her head she had some very real thoughts to wander around in.

I smirked at her and leaned towards her a little bit since we were officially friends now and she admitted that I was _muy attractivo_.

"It would be a waste, wouldn't it?" I asked, winking.

She giggled in a deeper tone than I thought most girls did and shook her head at me before placing it back down on her head rest.

"I've told Bella more than once that if she weren't the one conducting it I'd be on the Edward Train myself. If Michael was out of the picture, of course."

"Of course."

We glanced at each other again and this time she winked at me, pulling her large glasses down her face once again to do so.

Her smile turned from playfull to genuine and then faded completely as she began to speak again.

"But she won't give you up so that gives me hope. I think she really needs you even if she doesn't want to admit it. You're someone who won't give up despite the crappy way she keeps them at arm's length. Maybe the Love Gods know what the heck they're doing with you two after all, which is refreshing for all of us. God knows she's gone through enough weekend flings to last a lifetime."

This sparked my interest mildly. Loose Lips was now my friend and I was about to use that to my advantage.

"Yeah, someone told me that Bella's gone through things kind of like this before. Infatuations with guys, I guess. How many of these weekend infatu-flings are we talking about exactly?"

"There really aren't that many. Three. Maybe five? Michael's parties get kind of large sometimes so we get newbies galore thanks to our close friends inviting people they meet. Just like how you got here thanks to Rose and your sister hitting it off. Every so often a nice looking man such as yourself will be amongst the fresh faces. Bella may be insecure in relationships but she's not insecure with herself on a surface level so she's managed to take advantage of those situations. Who told you about this, by the way?"

"Jacob."

"Ha! Yeah, he would be the one to notice... he's been drooling over Bella for forever-"

"I really don't want to discuss Jacob's puppy love, if you don't mind."

"No problem. I'm sick of those two going back and forth anyway. I don't blame Bella for that one. Not really. He's blind if he can't see that for what it is. We've all told him-"

"Jessica. The Infatu-flings, please."

"All right. Damn. Whatever Jacob told you is probably basically true. Bella easily gets attached to one of these new guys for a week or two and then gets over it just as quickly as it began. No one's ever gotten hurt, I don't think. It's always a mutual casual thing. But the whole week after she finds one to get attached to all any of us would hear is, _'So and So likes this kind of music_', and _'Mr. New Guy loves to read mysteries', 'Aren't they all _so_ interesti_ng?', blah blah blah. She usually get's fixated and then it ends and we never hear about him agian."

"But these things have never lasted for more than a week or so?"

"Nope."

"So I'm fine. It's been two months since she's been infatuated with me. Fuck the Indian. I knew he didn't know what he was talking about. Not that you didn't have me slightly worried a few mintues ago..."

I shook my head to myself and pulled out another cigarette. My hands wanted to be busy. My mouth wanted cheap whiskey and Bella. This all involved too much thinking for my liking. I just wanted to _be_ with her.

"I'm not Bella so I can't tell you for sure that you're not just a super long infatuation. I wasn't sure at first, but I don't think so. Still... she's full of suprises. No one thought she'd ever get tattooed either. She manages to shock the shit out of us every once in a while."

I would be lying if I denied the tiny aneurism that was happening in the Bella section of my brain.

I didn't want to believe that I was just an abnormally lengthy infatuation for her, but I certain fit the bill, didn't I?

There was no real committment but there was a keen fascination she'd spoken of.

If she was in one emotional piece when she got home from dinner with the Douche then I'd have to confront her on this. I meant what I said in the alley about what would happen if she walked away from me like he did to her. I wouldn't make it. I _could_, sure. But I wouldn't _want _to.

I was in this the only way I knew how to be, for real. Oh yes, indeed. I was in pretty deep already and everything I felt for her had to be reciprocated. It _had_ to be. For the first time since whatever we were doing started I felt like I needed her to confirm it to me.

"Yeah, I'm not going to be just another one of those guys to her. I'm going to talk to her about it. Tonight. Provided she isn't a complete wreck courtosy of the Douche."

"I hope she isn't, but I wouldn't count on it. Not if he's honest with her. He's got a pretty big bomb to drop."

"What's that?"

"He's married. And he always has been."

* * *

**What to you do to calm you down?**

**I got to Disneyland, or read, or pray, or listen to blues music.**

**Thank you so much for reading :) Sorry this one is kind of short. It was important but I didn't want to drag out a non B & E chapter too long. **

**The Douche dinner is up next...**

**LOVE YOUS**

**-Car**


	10. I and Love and You

**CHAPTER 10 - I and Love and You**

_"Three words that became hard to say:_

_I and love and you"_

- The Avett Brothers "I and Love and You"

**Bella**

I think I stood outisde of the diner for fourteen full minutes just watching him sit there alone before I made any move to go in.

He spoke to the waitress a few times. She delivered two waters to the table and smiled widely at him. I imagined him being just as friendly and wonderful as he always seemed to be when you first met him. Likable. He was always just that "likable" guy.

Until he left you with a broken heart, of course.

I watched him pull out a blackberry looking phone and type a text or two. I watched him drink his water and check the time.

And the whole time I watched I kept one thing in my mind.

Edward.

This was, after all, ultimately for him.

Yes, it was definitely something I needed to do for _me_. But if I hadn't met _him_ I wouldn't be thinking that _I _needed it so... Edward. My need to do this for Edward is what drove me email James and request this meeting. No matter that it was very clear Edward requested it for my behalf. A big part of me wanted to heal and completely move on.

It was directly related to every part of me that wanted to feel Edward's hands on my skin.

I finally opened the door and stepped into the restaurant I'd avoided for so long. It was all the same, more or less, and that gave me a sense of comfort.

Of course that all went to crap when I arrived right behind him at the booth I knew he'd be at. The one we always shared after shows with all of our close friends. The one we sat in the first time I ever spoke to him.

I could see that night so clearly in my mind. It was just a flash of a picture but I caught every detail in it because it had been one of the most defining moments in my reality.

He looked exactly the same on this night as he did then.

And suddenly I was angry. Bottle throwing angry. Because I felt like a drastically different person and he looked like it was the very next day and he'd never left me at all.

Something about him should have been different. I should have remembered him differently than he really was. The reality of him here, seeing him with the eyes I had now should have revealed a flaw or mistake I hadn't seen before.

But he was exactly the same.

And I couldn't destroy the diner's serene atmosphere by uncorking my bottled rage. I'd just have to siphon it all towards it's deserving target.

With a new found angry confidence I slid into the booth across from him, hating how every single detail around us also seemed unchanged.

His face lit up the slightest bit as his lips made their way into a cool smile.

"Bella, hello. I assume you aren't as happy to see me as I am to see you."

I hated his voice. I hated that his statement sounded correct but that I couldn't actually believe his words because I didn't trust anything about him anymore. I hated the way his hands looked the same but his hair almost didn't. It was too long, but just barely.

I wasn't not unaware of the possibility of my mind making up details about him just to find how they were different just because I wanted them to be, though. So the hair thing may have been untrue. Perhaps it was exactly as I remembered as well.

"Hi James. I don't really know what I'm doing here. But I think it will be good for me," I replied cautiously, with effort and a small, forced smile.

"That sounded nice and rehearsed, now didn't it?" he said cooly. His smile was genuine and amused as he slid farther back into the booth, relaxing.

In my mind I whipped a bottle at a wall and heard the imaginary yet still satisfying _CRASH. _As it exploded in my mind so did some of the silent rage. I took a deep breath and folding my arms defensively in front of my heart.

I could do this. I had to.

"Ok, then. Let me try going off script for you," I spoke evenly, converying my annoyance at his attitude with my tone while also trying to channel a calm, collected version of me that I wanted him to believe,"You are a bastard. I didn't come here for anything more than to make sure you know that's what you are in my eyes, for no fault but your own."

He swallowed that for a second, choosing to remain silent but not dropping his cool. He nodded once and then completely ignored my statement.

"I took the liberty of ordering food for you since you were a bit late. I hope you don't mind. I got you your favorite."

His charming smile flashed at me just as the second imaginary bottle smashed against the brick wall in my head.

"Banna pancakes aren't my favorite anymore. Blueberry are," I said with the defiance of a teenager and the satisfaction of one person who has proof that they've outgrown another.

"Nevertheless, you will enjoy them," he responded with a shrug.

_CRASH_

Civil Bella was done. Bottle Throwing Bella wanted out. Now.

I leaned over the table and lowered my voice, still careful not to cause a scene that reached any ears outside of our booth but consciously making sure the sounds that came out of my mouth were hard and hot and fast.

"I'm _not_ going to sit here and pretend that you still know me, James. So stop it. You gave up that right when you walked out on me unannounced."

He leaned in as well, no longer smiling but not showing any other emotion that casual nonchalance either.

"I still know you, Bella. You've never known me, though. And that's the problem we're facing here, isn't it?"

"No! No. Whatever and whomever we were when we were together doesn't matter anymore. The problem with us is that I've never had any closure. You robbed me of that, and it's unfair-"

"So that's what you're here to get? Closure?"

"Yes. I don't know how, but telling you off is starting to feel like a good start."

I leaned back with a huff and the cushioned booth sighed under the impact. He leaned back as well, slowly and with a dark chuckling sound and no cushion sighing.

"By all means, have at it then," he sighed, waving his hands in front of him in invitation of said "telling off".

I opened my mouth to speak before I thought about what words would come out of them. Luckily before any did the waitress showed up with our food.

Banana pancakes for me. Strawberry waffles for him.

I missed the blue and green of my new world of Jasper and Edward. James made even the sweetest fruit seem harsh.

Instead of hurling the next imaginary bottle at a wall I simply let it drop from my imaginary hand to the imaginary ground in a quick release. The _CRASH_ wasn't as loud or violent, but pieces of my anger with him still shattered across the imaginary alley floor and danced around my feet.

I brought my eyes up from my plate and just stared at him for a moment.

He looked so safe. Nothing about his attractiveness was dangerous like Edward's. His blonde hair was of a usual color and his eyes, though the blue was quite impressive, weren't always searching or changing shades. He wore fitted jeans and boots and high collared jackets, but he wore them with an air of casual innocence. It was miles away from the way the steps Edward took in his leagues of battered Vans and Converse seemed calculated to make sure you knew that the weathered look of his shoes were due to the experiences and adventure he'd had without you.

James didn't appear to be a mystery at all, yet he'd turned out to be nothing but smoke and mirrors.

Edward was a walking mystery to the naked eye, yet I'd found him on more than one occasion clearing the smoke from my eyes and shattering any mirrors put between us just so I would really see and accept _him_.

Unless that was his ruse.

I almost groaned out loud at my impending insecurity and at the man across from me who had caused it all but was happily eating the second bite of his strawberry waffles.

He glanced up at me and then down at my plate before smirking.

"Please don't tell me you're refusing to eat what I ordered you just to prove a point."

"Of course not," I sighed as I picked up my fork.

I just wasn't hungry. But they did smell good. And that one sentence surprisingly didn't anger me further because it felt like the him I knew before. He never let me get away with things he thought were silly.

We ate a few bites in silence and it grew uncomfortable. Well, _more_ uncomfortable, at least for me.

"I don't want to be mad at you anymore," I said after I'd eaten as many bites as I could. "But I don't know how not to be."

"Maybe you always will be," he shrugged.

"You could at least pretend to care, you used to be very good at it," I shot back, gabbing another bottle out of the imaginary cardboard box in my mind and preparing to chuck it across the table at his head.

He set down his fork carefully and deliberately and then he looked at me.

"I'm sorry for how that probably sounded. I'm not lying to you anymore, though, and to give you the sob story you seem to want from me, about how badly I feel and how miserable living with my guilt is... that _would_ be a lie, Bella. I can't give that to you."

"Well you have to give me _something_," I pleaded, balling my hands into fists under the table and fighting with all my might not to let my voice break into a desperate screech.

"I did care about you, honestly, just not in the way I said I di-"

"Then why the hell did you ever say it? Why did you tell me you loved me when you knew you didn't? Why did you talk about marriage and a future with me and let me feel like I was special to you?"

"Because I wanted it all to be real for me. I wanted it very badly for myself and for you. I just never got there."

_CRASH_

Imaginary me stood enraged in an imaginary dark alley, breathing hard with an empty hand.

Real me sat in a familiar booth with a familiar face and an all too familar empty, scary feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"You never _got there_? Do you know how that sounds? Why? What was wrong with me? I was_ there_ with you, and you knew it! And you let me believe - oh my God."

My hand flew to my hair and then down my face, trying to rub away the words I'd just digested.

He never _got there_.

As if was as simple as loosing your sense of direction or getting sidetracked on the way to someone's house.

"You really are a bastard."

"I _was_. I'm not anymore. I owe you the truth and that's what I'm giving you now, and it's something I've learned a great deal about since I left you. I'm sorry it's too late to be of any immediate comfort to you. I'm sorry I never told I was sorry back then. I'd tell you when you were asleep, though. I apologized a lot for how I would lie to you again when you woke up, because I had to keep trying to love you for myself."

Ok. I'd had it with the Honest Abe act. It wasn't helping anything. Everything seemed somehow worse because now I knew that it had all been a farse.

The only thing was that his stupid truth strategy somewhat worked. Technically he could sit here and spill all the sordid details of our past to me and I couldn't have much right to do anything but be grateful for him finally being man enough to give me what he couldn't before: truth.

The only flaw in his plan was that I'm a human, and a girl, and not about to push all of these emotions away like I'd wanted to do right after he left me.

"So what was it, then? Some sort of experiment? You picked out the prettiest girl in the room and decided to find out if you could make yourself love her or not?"

"Well this is nice to hear, I have to say. You just called yourself the prettiest girl in the room. My Bella never would have seen herself as such."

"Stop it. That's not what any of this is about-"

"Still, it's nice to know that you see yourself correctly now. Not everything I've ever said to you has been a lie. You're a beautiful woman."

"Seriously, stop it. Look, I don't know if it even matters anymore, but I still want to know. How much of us _was _real, James? Twenty percent of our relationship? Fifty? Ten?"

"Bella, it was all real aside from the confessions of love. Of course I had _a_ love for you. The frienship was real. The connection."

"You told me I was perfect for you, or to you... I mean, the night my father called... what you said that night was important to me but your leaving negated everything you'd _ever_ said-"

"That was real, B. I told you that you were perfect for me, yes? You _were_ perfect for me. Human beings aren't made for perfection though, are we? We desire chaos and defects. I wanted to love you the way I said I did I wanted it to be my reality and I thought that I was heading in that direction, but I never quite got to the level you did with me. That's the only excuse I can give for myself. It took me a long time to come to grips with it and I knew it would hurt me to leave you, but it would have been worse the longer I stayed. It's probably too late for all of this, I know. It's what I have to offer tough."

His unabashed delivery of his wrongdoings was catching me off guard. This is not how I saw this meeting going when I pictured it in my head and even when I entered the booth, sat down, and heard his first words to me.

It was going much faster than I thought it should. He was much more direct and unafraid to look like the villian than I thought he should be.

I took a deep breath and tried to process everything. Something still didn't feel right but I had to accept his words. This is what I came here for, answers, no matter how ugly they were. Perhaps I shouldn't be so surprised I was getting them.

"I suppose it's good to know the truth. Finally," I spat, no longer sounding cool or calm and no longer caring about what I sounded like to him.

"There's something else you should know too," he said as he pushed his plate further away from him.

I couldn't imagine what else he could say that would sting so I responded with little care, sort of just wanting this whole episode to be over.

I should have kept my guard up, though. He wasn't done pulling the rug out from under my feet.

"What?"

"I'm married."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm married, Bella."

Everything in me felt still. Even imaginary me froze in mid bend to pick up another bottle. We were in shock.

"You're not wearing a ring," I pointed out since his hands were one of the first things I took in when I first walked in and I definitely would have noticed that change.

"Yeah," he sighed as he reached into his pocket and pulled out what had better not be his damn wedding ring, "That was on purpose."

He slipped the cursed thing on his finger and I wanted to throw up or deflate a tire or jump through a window.

"To who?" were the only words my mouth could form.

Because this changed everything when it really changed nothing... but I wanted it all to be different anyway.

"Does it matter?"

"Yes. It matters. I want a name."

He sighed, as if he had any inkling of a right to be annoyed with me, and scratched his head.

"Lauren."

Holy hell.

"Lauren? As in Victoria's sister Lauren?"

"Yep."

_CRAAAASSSSHHHHH_

Imaginary me did not pick up a bottle and throw it at my imaginary alley wall. Imaginary me flipped over that entire damn imaginary box of imaginary bottles and sent the whole thing flying across the alley floor in a very gratifying display of destruction. They were all smashed. Every imaginary piece of them. The tiny bits of glass both relieved and mocked imaginary me.

"She used to visit us. At our apartment," I accused, remembering her showing up to our door numerous times feigning interest in learning to play the guitar, or borrow a book, or some mundane lie of a thing.

"Uh, yeah," he murmured, finally having the fucking decency to sound ashamed or uncomfortable.

This fueled me. The next few minutes flew by because I entered into rapid-fire mode. All I wanted were answers and validations for how utterly betrayed I felt.

"Were things going on between you then? When you were with me?"

"No, no. Of course not. Well, not physically."

"Emotionally, then?"

"Sort of-"

"Don't fucking give me that. Were things going on between you emotionally?"

"Fuck. Yes."

That answer sounded strained and his eyes blinked for a little bit longer than necessary before opening again and staring straight at me. He always used to insert a "fuck" before giving answers he knew were going to cause trouble and now it seemed I actually _did_ know at least one truthful trait about him.

"Then why didn't you leave me for her earlier?"

"I told you, I wanted to love you."

"That's messed up. And this makes no sense."

"Fuck," he said again and I waited. "Fuck. I was married to her before, Bella."

"Before when?" I asked, scared to death that the intensity in his eyes was already telling me the answer. "Before you left Seattle? Before you saw me at the bar the night that Jess made us all go see your show? Before you were ready to t-"

"Before I met you."

Both of my hands came up and covered my mouth. I felt tears fighting their way out of my body but something was holding them back. I'm sure I looked watery, though. You know, the way girls always look when they are too angry to cry but their reflexes still want them to. My hands slid from my mouth to my cheeks so that I could speak again and still attempt to literally hold myself together.

"Please tell me that you've married her twice," my understanding tried to reason, "Tell me that there was a divorce involved."

"No."

No.

His response couldn't be true. It couldn't be. My head started shaking in between my hands, moving itself back and forth in diagreeance of what he said.

"You've never been divorced but you married her before you even met me?" I whispered, so afraid of my own voice.

Imaginary me picked up some of the glass bits and then spread my fingers so that I could watch the small, shiny, imaginary objects fall through my fingers and back onto the pavement. The soft tinkling noise their fall made didn't comfort me, but it seemed an appropriate gesture for my prettend self to make anyway.

"We were separated, but only physically, as I said before. Marrying young didn't suit either of us well so we decided to stop playing house. But being apart didn't end up working either. We both tried other... things... people... but in the end our inability to be perfect for each other became perfect-"

"Oh my God," I moaned, "I cannot sit here and listen to your quirky little love story! And I shouldn't have to-"

"I just want you to know, Bella, we're happy. And I know that sounds like I'm just twisting the knife, but I'm honestly not. I just want you to understand... you loved me so much, so well, and I never could have given you that. I'm sorry that mine and Lauren's mistakes ended up involving you. You know I'm not good at confrontation. That's one of the reasons I was so attracted to the idea of loving you and why I left you like I did. I didn't want to tarnish our relationship with a fight over the mistake I'd made by trying things out with you."

Every word he said just made me feel more and more sick. This big reveal hurt and confused me. There was so much I hadn't known about him. Too much.

"I think the worse part of all of this is that I couldn't be that girl for you, James, even though you let me believe that I was. That's the thing that's stuck with me the most. But I never had a chance of being that girl, did I? I don't know if it's better or worse knowing that I was never a real option for you. It's definitely worse knowing that you lied to me for so long and that I gave so much of myself to you and you took it willingly. You left me with nothing but a piece of paper. Nothing - no respect, no goodbye, no way to know what I'd done wrong... I feel sick. Physically sick."

I scrubbed my hands over my face, trying to wipe away reality.

Real James and Imaginary Bella both stared at me in pity. Neither of them seemed to have anything else to offer.

"I don't know what to say, Bella. That's me. That's what I allowed myself to do, and I'm sorry, but it's the me you got. Neither of us can change that now."

"I need a minute," I said quickly, moving to get out of the booth. "I'll be right back, but I need a minute. I can't have the rest of this conversation with you until I clear my head a bit."

I slid all the way out of the booth and burst through the bathroom door moments later.

I really only needed a minute to be by myself without having to look at him or his unapologetic face and ring.

I washed my hands and held their new coolness up to my face.

I looked like the same Bella. My eyes were a bit more frantic that normal and my skin looked a lot calmer than it felt. My hair was brown and my mouth was unproportioned in a way that may even be in my favor, I'd never decided. I was the same Bella I had been when I walked in here but now my past was different. Re-written somehow.

How did that affect my future?

Did it have to?

_Edward_

His name flashed in my head unannounced and I shook my head to get rid of it.

I wanted to get back out there and end this so that I could start _that_.

Whatever _that_ with Edward would be... my head was so full of doubts and lies and wishings of new beginnings... I couldn't even place Edward in the middle of all of this. He seemed like a whole separate world.

With one last look in the mirror I left the bathroom and built up my resolve for whatever shameless comments James had waiting for me next. I felt like we could walk away from this affably now that I'd had a moment to compose myself and could rationally talk with him through the rest of my upset.

I approched the table in utter disbelief.

No.

_No_.

He didn't do it again. Not to me, not again...

But he had.

The booth was empty, nearly wholly. The plates were cleared and the tab lay open to the merchant's signed copy of the receipt; paid and with mints on top.

He'd left me again, in the same exact fashion. With no pretense of his departure and no real explanation and no regard to the fact that I might need more of an ending than this.

And there, under my near empty water glass (the only thing that hadn't been cleared from the table) was a note. It was folded and waiting for me. It was mocking me with flashbacks of my hand searching a pillow and finding it's brother waiting for me. They were both created by the same mad man and both related to him running away from me.

I sat down in the booth and looked around.

No one was paying any attention to me but I felt like the whole world should be in shock and trying to comfort me. Nothing was different for the other patrons of the diner, though. Just like everyone had gone on living last time James decided I wasn't worth a proper goodbye.

No one else here knew what I was feeling.

Or at least what I _thought _I should be feeling...

I lifted my glass up and unfolded the piece of paper.

White this time. Not red.

That was a little better in a strange way. Less harsh, I suppose.

Hesitantly my eyes fell to the words written there:

_"Three words that became hard to say: I and love and you. What you were then I am today. Look at the things I do."_

_Sorry, _

_J._

I only read this note three and a half times before folding it back up and shoving it into the pocket of my jacket.

I drained the rest of my water, grabbed both mints, took my keys out, dropped them, picked them up, and then fled the diner quickly.

And the whole time I ingored the tears that finally made it out of my eyes.

**xXx xXx xXx**

It took me longer to get a hold of Rose than I would have liked, but I finally had Alice Cullen's phone number.

I entered it into my iPhone and pressed "call".

With tears still in my eyes and fear still in my heart I listened to 3 rings clamly and then begged her to pick up.

"Bella?"

"Uh, yeah... hi, Alice. How did you know it was me?"

"I'm psychic."

"Really?"

"Ha - no, geeze, Bella. Caller ID. I've had your number for ages. Rosalie and Edward have both given it to me, you know, just in case."

"Just in case of what?"

"I think the reasoning is different for both of them."

"Ok, well, I have a quesiton for you, Alice. And it's supremely important that you answer honestly."

I sniffled for the first time since I'd opened my mouth to speak, and I think she caught it because her tone grew serious.

"Sure, anything. What's your question?"

"Has Edward ever been married?"

I've never heard someone so small laugh so loudly.

* * *

**Did you ever have imaginary friends?**

**I'm an only child. I had many, haha. After my grandma would take me to see plays (I'm a theatre geek, you see. And it started early) my imaginary friends would be my favortie characters from whichever play we just saw. **

**This one was shorter due to lack of B and E togetherness just like the last one. I hope you don't mind because this was necessary. **

**I'm actually not a big fan of this chap myself, but I've made it into the best version of it I could. It's a necessary evil. What do you think of James? **

**Bella and Edwardness coming up next!**

**LOVE YOUS**

**-Car**


	11. While My Guitar Gently Weeps

**CHAPTER 11 - While My Guitar Gently Weeps**

_"I don't know why nobody told you how to unfold your love"_

- The Beatles "While My Guitar Gently Weeps"

**Edward**

I peaced out of Jessica's company not too long after my fright over Bella's tendancy to fling it up with random guys settled in. I felt restless and it had almost been an hour since I left her apartment so I wanted to get back and make sure I was there when she got back.

I pulled out my cigarettes then frowned and shoved them back in my pocket. Then I pulled them out again. Then I shoved them back the fuck in.

I felt indecisive and jittery and a whole hell of a lot unlike myself.

I decided to go back to my place to grab some of the whiskey my dad had sent me. Whiskey always calmed me down. I didn't want to get smashed (Bella's unknown state of post-douche-dinner called for a more stable, sober Edward) but I wanted to be able to sit still for ten damn seconds.

I arrived to my humble abode in record time and walked through the front door with the sole mission of retrieving the booze and then heading right back out towards her place.

The Bella I found lounging in my black recliner distracted me, though.

"What the hell?" I asked out loud, to myself, to her, to no one. Just in complete shock.

"It's nice to see you, too," she replied softly.

I froze in place, kind of like a deer in headlights, very much like the first moment I spotted her at Newton's.

I attempted to take inventory of her emotional state. That way I would be able to form an appropriate response to her surprise presence once I regained usage of my brain's communication to the rest of my body.

She didn't look like she'd been crying, but girl technology was catching up with the times and she could very well have some miracle cream or powder to help her hide that. She was rocking back and forth softly in the chair which was either an act of leisure or something that was meant to soothe her torn up insides. Her hair was sort of a mess, but then again it always was.

Fuck it, I'd have to ask.

"So how was it?"

"Shitty."

Ok.

"Ok."

I stood there for a moment longer, and she sat there silently with an unreadable expression on her face.

I'm sorry, I'm not usually at a loss for words, or charm, or really anything, but in this moment I had no fucking clue what to do.

Did her silence mean she didn't want to talk? Did it mean she was so sad she couldn't even communicate at all? If she didn't want to talk, especially specifically to me, then why was she in my house? Was it a forboding silence that meant that she was just waiting until I broke down and she could use my moment of weakness to tell me that the Douche had officially messed her up for good and she could never love again, not even my sister if I forced her to be a lesbian for my own selfish reasons?

"Uh, why are you _here_?" I asked as my brain turned to ash and only the most basic, un-dramatic thought escaped.

We'd had an understanding that we were going to meet at her place, hence my haste (and apparent failure) to get there by the time she did.

"You look like you're going to throw up, Edward," she observed instead of replying as her brow scrunched up.

She stood up, as if she were going to cross the living room and come to me, but something held her back and she just stood about a foot in front of the still rocking recliner instead.

"Yeah. I might. Why are you here, Bella?" I asked again, forcefully. "Did something happen with him? I mean, you're changing the plan on me here, so I'm guessing that something happened that made you come here instead of your place and why the fuck did your dinner end so early? It's only been like fourty seven minutes."

Confusion slows me down and I hate being slowed down unintentionally. So in my effort to be more like the me I'm comfortable being I ramble and turn into an even larger ass.

She opened her mouth to speak to me, pausing for just a second before any words came out. Her left knee started bouncing just slightly and her fingers worked themselves into a knot by her stomach that I wanted to untagle with my own fingers.

And then she looked like maybe she was about to cry but was stopping herself.

Crap.

"I really hate James, Edward. Like, more than before because I actually know who he is now, and it's a horrible excuse for a person. I mean, he's no better than he was when we were together, but I didn't _know_ what he was then."

I really thought I'd lost her then. Her eyes were really wide and frightened and the tension in her hands was practically filling the entire room. I was convinced that he'd officially ruined her.

I started mentally making a list of all the things I had to do next in order to secure whatever little santiy and pleasure I could squeeze out of my life now that she was ruined:

1. Find The Douche and flog his ass for all of the obvious reasons.

2. Research states that recognize gay marriage and convince Alice that at least one city in that state is couture enough for her permanent residence with Bella.

3. Jasper will have to -

I never got through three. Because she wasn't done speaking yet and I wasn't prepared for what was going to come out of her mouth next. But I guess I wasn't prepared at all for any of this, even though I felt I'd been waiting for it for years.

"I think, though, that whatever fucked up version of a human being he is... it's definitely not what you are. And I don't hate you. At all. I like you a lot. More than I think I should. And I really, really want you to touch me."

"Now?"

"Now."

I didn't even hesitate for one second.

Not one fucking millisecond went by before my brain snapped back into action and started screaming at the rest of me to get the fuck over to where she was standing.

In three strides I was across the floor. I jumped over the back of my couch, pushed off of the cushions with my left foot and launched myself at her.

My arms wrapped around her tiny waist and it was like they'd never held anything signifigant before in their whole entire existence.

Due to the rush in which I ambused her the force of my eagerness propelled us into the reclilner, me on top of her until the very last second when I twisted our bodies so that we landed with mostly me taking the brunt of the fall into the old leather.

I think I was mumbling her name over and over again as my arms tightened and my legs intertwined with hers. My face was burried into the crook of her neck and nothing, _nothing_ I'd ever done before this moment had ever felt right because it had never felt like this.

**Bella**

Instantly it felt like too much.

Too much good. Too much tingling. Too much intesity and rightness and want and _need_.

My inital reaction was to pull away and run but I don't think the death grip Edward had on my body was anywhere near negotiable.

So I stuck it out.

And by "stuck it out" I mean I said, "fuck you" to every single instinct in my body telling me that this was an overload, that I was making a foolish decision throwing all of my hesitancy to the wind, and I melted into Edward's embrace instead.

"Bella, bella, bella," he mumbled into my skin, literally, over and over again in a quiet, deep voice.

Every brush of his lips against my neck sent another shiver down my spine and my fingers curled into his clothing in response. He wasn't even kissing me, just whispering in worshiping tones. I felt my heart rate speed up and everything about me was on alert, like an animal being preyed upon.

Somehow he'd managed to tangle our legs together and suddenly we were almost one entity, no longer separated by time or space or fear.

"Edward, I need you to look at me for a second," I said hurridley.

My voice sounded foreign to me. It was quaking and high pitched and desperate.

"You sound like you're having a panic attack but I'm not fucking letting go of you," he replied sternly, still into my neck.

"I'm not panicking. Well, not as much as I could be. But you have to look at me," I demanded. "I just want to talk to you."

"Can I hold your hand while we talk?"

I laughed a little bit at his question and the sound had the same uninvited (and unattractive) resonance as my voice.

"You're practically absorbing me into the chair with you. I think we're past holding hands," I joked.

But he wasn't in a joking mood, I soon found out. Without waiting for a proper response from me he very seriously slid his hand from my shoulder down, down, down, to my wrist. I watched intently with him as he slid his fingers smoothly over the plane of my palm.

Achingly slow he lined his long digts up with mine then curled the ends of his fingers over the tops of mine, I think just because he was amused with how small my hands were compared to his. We'd never had a chance to compare them before.

Finally, finally, he wrapped my hand in his and I learned that with Edward Cullen hand holding was an art form made to be taken very seriously.

"Now talk," he said very calmly, still gazing at our hands.

I swallowed and tightened my right hand's grip on his clothing, trying to pull more courage out of the threads in the fabric under my fingers.

My whole life was changing. Everything lesson I thought my experience with James had taught me was shattered because of the boy I was entwined with, and I was about to finalize that change with words.

"I'm... we'll I guess you can tell, but I'm ready for this. For us."

My words stumbled out awkwardly. Partly because I'd only decided that they were true about twently minutes ago and partly because his thumb was tracing circles where it rested on my palm.

His head snapped up and his bright eyes met mine. There was no mistaking his mirth. I was certain the entire city of Seattle could feel it radiating off of him.

"Excellent. Marry me."

"What?"

"Marry me. Today. Tonight-"

"Edward, stop. I just became comfortable enough with us_ touching! _And we've been over the marriage thing-"

"We've been over everything, Bella. I know what I want and now you know what you want, what I've known you want, and we need to solidify it!"

"Marriage is a huge step, Edward! Your proposal thing, aside from being completely absurd, has been really cute up until now, but don't you think we should do at least some of our relationship conventionally adn actually date first?"

"Shit no. Why start trying to be normal now? I've already told you, I like us like this. Just like this."

"I do-"

He cut me off by kissing me.

"Marry me, Bella."

"No."

"Fuck, woman."

He sounded annoyed but he just kissed me again.

It wasn't slow or sweet or gentle.

It was perfect, though.

His lips were insistent and so soft. They met mine with a need I'd never felt so strongly before. It transfered into my own skin, pushing the flood of fright that sprang up through my chest back down and out of the way off all the fantastic sensations that were meant to engulf me.

The hand of his that wasn't wrapped into my own was now pressing on my lower back, pulling me into him with a strength I didn't know he posessed.

His lips moved fluidly over mine, over and over again. They caressed and pulled at me, begging me for more with their motion.

My free hand was burried into his hair and it didn't matter anymore that he had a silly, stupid notion that we should be married immediatly. I didn't even know if I was pushing him towards me or pulling on his disarrayed locks, but the hand was active and whatever I was doing pulled a low moan out of his throat.

"Fuck, Bella. Oh my... ugh," he breathed in between kisses, straight into my mouth.

There were no words in my head. I couldn't even manage a strained fragmented sentence like he had. All I wanted was more of him so I pulled my hand from his and slid it up into his hair as well, using the added force to pull his face even further into mine.

His newly free hand found purchase on the back of my neck and, with a far more gentle force than what he'd used on my back, he pushed me further into him as well.

His tounge hungrily traced my bottom lip and I opened my mouth to him immediately. As the kiss deepened my grip on his hair tightened and I hadn't felt so free and so trapped in all my life.

This was the most raw form of expression I'd ever known. Even my more intimate times with James had been somewhat reserved. Yes, I'd loved him, but not with the strange wild abandon that I felt when I let myself _feel _for Edward. There was a sort of properness about what I'd had with James.

There was nothing polite about what sensations I had around Edward.

His lips left mine and they began a trail down my jawline and towards my neck. The hand he'd had resting on my back slid under my shirt and taught the skin there what it felt like to burn.

**Edward**

There's no way I was ever going to stop touching her now.

No fucking way.

Everything about it was estasy. No other woman had ever done this to me, especially just from heavy kissing.

Yeah, other women (hell, probably any woman with the right moves) could make me feel good. Of course they could, and they had in the past. They could all get the tingly, needy, greedy, male reaction out of me. A man doesn't need much stimulous when it comes to that reaction.

But this...

Oh, brothers and sisters, this was heavenly.

This was different and so so _so_ much better than any of that shit.

I couldn't tell if she was pulling on my hair or tugging me further into her, but I could tell that I liked it. A lot.

Before I even got enough damn time to appreciate finally touching her, the front door opened and my worst nightmare walked into the room in the unfortunate forms of my very best friend, Jasper, and a gigantic fucking surprise.

My sister.

"Ew, oh my God. Edward, I'm so happy and so grossed out at the same time. Bella, for you I'm just happy."

Holy shit, Alice is in Seattle.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I asked her in the complete and utter shock that was now my reality.

Seriously, first Bella wants me to touch her and now Alice is in my condo in Seattle, standing next to her soul mate Jasper?

This is not how I thought my day was going to go.

But this is how I wanted it forever to be.

"Good to see you, too, big bro. I've flown the windy city to come brighten up your lives here in the Capital of Rain. You like my new boots?"

She held out her foot and was indeed wearing what looked like Burberry rain boots. At least they had that beige-red-black plaid print that I'd come to associate with Burberry thanks to endless exposure to it I've gotten from the mom and the sister (who's hearts were probably covered in the classic plaid design).

"They're great," I said and smiled at her because I was fucking happy with Bella and Alice was fucking happy with her boots. Apparently all the Cullens were really having a good day.

I turned to get another good look at the source of my happiness, the woman that was miraculously still tangeled in my arms and legs, and almost laughed at the expression I found on her face.

She looked thoroughly kissed, I'll give myself that. But shock had not faded from her cheeks or eyes and she watched silently with an open mouth as Jasper and Alice took place on the couch (her assessing the cushion before perching with her legs underneather her, him jumping over the back and settling into place while throwing his feet onto my coffee table as per usual).

"So... you're here to stay?" Bella asked as everyone settled in and I sort of started hating them for interrupting my lip's exploration of thier newly claimed territory.

"Yeah, Alice, what the hell?" I asked again, probably sounding more annoyed than in awe this time. "How come I didn't get any warning?"

"Probably because I didn't even know I was coming until last night."

"Ok. Um, what finally swayed you?" I asked as I reattached all of my fingers to Bella's.

"Jasper."

I felt both Bella and I turn to Jasper who was just sitting there with his head leaning on the back of the couch and his eyes closed, smirking.

"Are you guys together?" Bella asked hesitantly.

It was hard to tell.

They'd walked in together. Alice lived here now. I'd decided they should marry weeks ago. But they were sitting feet away from each other on the couch. But Jasper was smiling and Alice fucking lived here now...

"No," Alice responded and at the same moment Jasper shrugged and made an uncommitted grunting noise.

This was entertaining.

I lifted my eyebrows to Alice and implored her for a real answer with our special "tell me the truth" look and she just glared at me.

So she liked him but she was scared shitless of real feelings like I had been before Bella overwhelmed my life.

"Well, are _you_ guys together?" she asked Bella and I in a snarky tone.

"Heck yes," I smiled and replied immediately while Bella stiffened next to me.

I wasn't offended. I expected it. She had just jumped feet first into this so what the hell was she supposed to do? Marry me?

Well, yes, she was, actually... but what the hell? At least she was letting me touch her.

**Bella**

Suddenly Edward was burrying his face into my neck again, with his sister and Jasper sitting right there.

It relaxed me, though, and since I guess we were officially "together" now I let it make me happy that he was so enthusiastic about our closeness.

We still needed to talk, though. About a lot.

"Where are you living?" I asked Alice in an effort to distract myself from what Edward smelling me (and yes, the freak was actually smelling me) was doing to my insides.

"She refuses to bunk with me," Jasper drawled with is eyes still closed. I'm not sure he had the ability to sound disappointed, but I tihink this low tone was his version of it.

"So I got set up with Rose," Alice finished.

"_I_ set you up with Blondie," Jasper corrected.

"You kind of suggested it, but I've already told you that I had the idea in my head first. We've been friends for a while, you know."

"Woman, why can't you just admit that I'm good at taking care of you?" he sort of laughed.

"I can take care of myself, that's why. Honestly, Jazz, this isn't that complicated."

Edward was now sort of chuckling into my skin and I was trying to surpress an amused grin of my own. Jasper and Alice were bickering like an old married couple already. It was kind of cute. But also kind of disturbing considering she was a young, firey vixen and he was a laid back, stoner musician.

"Darling, I'm all blueberries over here," he chuckled.

"That doesn't even mean anything!"

"You only think that because you won't let me explain it to you."

"You are impossible," she concluded.

I began wondering how many times they'd had conversations like this. They seemed to be skipping over details and statements that had been said so many times they both just understood each other and could fill in the blanks of their argument.

Edward and I, however, were somewhat in the dark about all of this and that's what made our giggles even harder to supress.

It wasn't too hard to decifer, though, when you stipped it down to the basics.

He wanted her. She wanted him, but didn't want to want him. He's a no bullshit kind of guy so he's not letting her get away with it... blah, blah, blah.

I squeezed Edward's hand and thanked the universe for knocking me into good sense with him and jumping into my want of him. well, maybe it was totally horrible, selfish, stupid sense. Either way I was grateful to be over my phobia of happiness with the damn hot man curled around me.

Without any warning that gratefulness suddenly turned to need and I just wanted to be alone with him again, touching him intimately.

Now.

"Edward, let's go get that vodka out of the kitchen," I announced, far too loudly for casual speaking because I was so on edge about wanting my mouth on his again.

"We don't have any vodka in the kitchen," he replied, happy and confused and finally looking me in the eye and not the neck.

"Then let's get whatever the hell we _do_ have in the kitchen and bring it out," I said urgently, trying to get up and pull him with me, though I needed him to do most of the work since our tangledness was still mostly his doing. "We've got to celebrate the new arrival."

"Uh, ok," he chuckled as I began squirming.

**Edward**

She was acting weird but if that's what it took to get her to want to touch me all the time then so be it.

I was selfish and her mental health was unfortunately second to my want for her to want me.

She probably just wanted to get out of the awkward air floating around Mr. and Mrs. Disagreeable who were intruding our love bubble by hogging my couch.

Alice was looking anywhere but Jasper and Jasper was staring right at her relentlessly with his head still lazily leaned against the back of the couch.

Poor kids.

As soon as we stood all the way up Bella began pulling me by the hand into the kitchen.

I was fucking giddy by this point so her urgency to get a celebratory beverage just made me laugh as I trailed behind her.

All of that ended when she pushed me up against the cabinet and assaulted me, though.

And let me tell you, I could get way too used to this kind of behavior.

Touch Me Bella was aggressive, and hot, and so much more than I'd ever imagined.

"We need to talk," she murmured against my lips.

"Ok," I said since I would agree to buying her the fucking Great Wall of China if she asked me for it in this mood.

"Privately," she insisted.

"Ok, great," I agreed again, pretty much just focused on getting my hands under her shirt while our lips moved against each other.

"Shit," she sighed as I found the skin there.

Bingo.

Suddenly, though, my bingo was revoked.

She was pulling away.

"No, no, no, no," I began whining as her skin separated with mine and she started walking to the other side of the kitchen, "no, no, no, Bella, why?"

"We need to talk."

"Yeah, you keep mentioning that. Unfortunately when you're all up in my business talking isn't my top priority."

"Yeah, I know. That's my fault. You're just so... so..."

"Fuck hot? Irrisistable? Wonderful? Perfect? Touchable?"

She began laughing at my suggestions, which is fine because she also wasn't shooting any of them down.

She smoothed out her hair with her right hand and tucked the left into the pocket of her jeans.

"You're too much, and I like it, I'm not taking back what I said about being ready... I just really need to talk to you about what all of this means, or is, or whatever. I went through kind of a lot in a very short amount of time today."

"Yeah, that's fine. But you do understand that we cannot do that if you keep dragging me into the kitchen for a fake booze run that's really a booty call."

"I know! I know. I said I was sorry-"

"Oh, I never said you had to be sorry. Don't you ever be fucking sorry about that. You just have to let me know when this talk is going to happen cause, you know, otherwise I'm just going to assume I can maul you."

I winked at her to make sure she knew I wouldn't _really_ maul her. Not unless she asked for it. Or started it. Or did something irrisitable like breathing.

"Can we talk tonight? After Jasper and Alice leave or something?"

"Of course."

She nodded her head and smiled at me. It was sweet but then it was evil and she was walking towards me again and I knew I'd have to break the whiskey out that I'd been set on earlier because settling down was going to be on the menu if I had to make it through "a talk" with her later and some playfull touching with her until then.

As her hands wrapped around my waist I couldn't help but imagine the talk going (and ending) terribly well.

Things were looking up.

Way, way up.

* * *

**What settles you down the most?**

**This took too long to get out, this I know. **

**My imagination ran away. I chased it and chased it but could not find it until I unlocked another story that some of you may know I've started. **

**It's called The Tower of the Sky and it's 3 chapters in so far. It's saved my writing life in the past few weeks and it helped me get this chapter out. **

**I promise I'm not abandoning any story on purpose.**

**Let me know how the return of this is, please. I really couldn't keep them apart any longer and now we get to have some fun ;)**

**LOVE YOUS**

**-Car**


	12. Brown Trout Blues

**CHAPTER 12 - Brown Trout Blues**

_"I should be someone else_

_But you wouldn't know me if I was"_

- Jonny Flynn "Brown Trout Blues"

**Bella**

There were four of us sitting at the window.

And we were happy.

Granted, two of us were more completely happy than the other two, but it was there between all of us none-the-less.

The happiness flowed just as easily as the seemingly never ending supply of whiskey and despite my concern that Edward and I needed to have a serious talk, I kept up with everyone and silently allowed him to do the same.

Hell, if we weren't going to be conventional then we might as well go all the way and have our first serious "define the relationship" conversation in a high state of inebriation.

I was sitting on Edward's lap, sharing a clove with him, loving the way he'd subconsciously make a small, puckering motion with his lips after every drag and then reach for a sip of whiskey. I think maybe they were too sweet for him, but his cigarettes were all the way across the living room and I refused to get off of him for any amount of time.

Not that he was complaining. I mean, clearly he figured out a system and was dealing with the circumstances.

"I'm hungry," Alice whined in the special way I'd only ever heard the Cullens whine, where it doesn't even sound like a complaint at all. You just want to fix whatever they need after your hear their desperate tone.

"I have hot pockets," Edward offered.

Alice stuck out her tongue.

"Or cigarettes," I added.

Alice rolled her eyes.

Jasper chuckled softly to himself. He was sitting next to Alice on the bench that was the seating area on the far side of the table. His legs were on the table top, his back twisted so it was resting against the wall and this all inevitably resulted in him taking on his normal, lazy lean. Alice, despite her protests earlier, had her feet in his lap and her head on the opposite side of the bench, propped up by Edward's two couch pillows so she could still see all of us while her small frame was laid across the bech.

Her pristine Burberry rainboots sat forgotten on the floor behind the bench, just in my line of sight, settled right next to Jasper's dark brown, worn cowboy boots.

I studied the picture of the two shoes together very carefully in my whiskey state and came to the conclusion that they were cute together. So mis-matched. So opposite, yet cut from the same mold. Pristine and worn. Multi-colored and solid. Smaller and bigger. City and country.

Alice and Jasper.

"Stop laughing," Alice finally demanded of Jasper as his chuckling continued, getting louder and louder as the slow seconds passed.

She nudged his stomach with her foot but that just made him chuckle harder and grab her ankle.

"Why is he laughing?" I asked.

"Stop it!" she demanded again, ignoring me and trying to shake her ankle from his hold.

"It's funny," he offered back rather matter-of-factly.

"I'm glad my suffering amuses you," she chided with a small frown.

"That's not it, honey, and you know it," he retorted with his special, easy smile.

"Whatever. Hand me my drink please," she demanded, reaching her arm out for the coffee mug full of whiskey and coke that they were actually sharing even though Alice kept referring to it as only "hers".

"Nah-uh. You need real nutrients."

"Jasper, it's fine, my drink will do."

"It's gone anyway."

"Well, get me a refill. Please."

"You should have just taken half of my sandwhich on the ride over here," he sighed, starting to chuckle again and making no move to refill their drink.

I turned to Edward and lifted my eyebrows in question. These two were so hard to keep up with. If it wasn't a conversation started by, involving, or concerning Edward and/or I they always went off into an odd sort of bickering mode that never really made any sense.

Edward shook his head and took the clove from my mouth. Instead of lifting it to his own lips like I thought he would he leaned in and kissed me.

Because he could.

I smiled through the whole thing and when he pulled away he winked at me and slid his hand under my shirt at the small of my back.

Alice and Jasper were still fighting.

"Gross, I don't eat humus. Who puts that on a sandwich, anyway?"

"Have you ever even tried it? How can you know if you like something before you even give it a chance?"

"You're going to turn this conversation into something else, aren't you?" she accused him, narrowing her already droppy eyes.

"Well, you should be living with me and not Blondie. I'm just saying."

"Yes, yes. You've been 'just saying' that for hours now, sugar pie," she sighed dramatically, sarcastically, making him smirk for some reason. "I don't want to, Jasper."

"Oh, you do, Alice. You just don't know it yet."

She looked at him doubtfully and defiantly remained silent. It only seemed to egg him on further, though. Jasper grasped both of her feet in his hands and leaned down towards her a bit, speaking softer than before.

"Come on. Take the sandwich, baby blue. It's only a veggie sandwich, nothing carnivorous. Veggies are nice and they aren't as serious as blueberries. It's ok. Try the humus. With sprouts. And onions. And lettuce-"

Whatever this all meant, it must have been a good thing, because soon Alice was laughing and the whiskey was making it very, very hard for me to figure out why.

"You're infuriating!" she laughed.

"And convincing?" he tried hopefully through his smile.

"More like full of wishfull thinking. You're a dreamer, Jazzy."

"And you're as spreadable as humus, Ali."

A moment passed between them, something bigger than their silly metaphors and resistances and longings. It was silent and heavy and as drunk with emotion as we were with whiskey.

"Are they still talking about sandwiches?" Edward leaned in and asked me with his lips on my ear, thoroughly perplexed.

I guess he kept forgetting that I was as in the dark as he was (if not more) when it came to them. I sighed and shrugged and he moved his hand up my spine.

Alice and Jasper were now both smiling at each other, neither talking or fighting, as his thumb rubbed circles in the top of her foot.

After a moment passed she seemed to snap out of it and she cleared her throat while she glanced at the ceiling and then back at the boy before her.

"Can we just figure out something to eat for right now?" she asked him in a smaller voice.

He nodded and his whole body sort of seemed to sigh.

"Is your Italian place still open, man?" Jasper questioned Edward.

"I don't think so. Well, maybe. It's not too late. They don't deliver, though, and I don't want to get up."

"Ooo, I think I want pizza," Alice decided out loud, lifting her arms over her head in a victorious gesture.

"I know a delivery place," Jasper replied, taking his cell phone out of his pocket. "What kind do you want?"

"Cheese," Edward threw out.

"Extra cheese," I added, earning myself another kiss from him.

"Hawaiian!" Alice cheered.

Jasper nodded and ordered in his own special way, calling the phone operator "brother", and telling him, "noramally I'm not a big fan of eating meat, but I find Hawaiian pizza to be rather friendly", and spacing out when he was supposed to be giving the address for delivery because Chuck Berry's "Maybelline" started playing through the iHome speakers while he was still on the phone.

When the pizza arrived Edward still refused to get up and his hand was kneeding the skin on my hip so I refused as well.

Alice jumped up, eager as ever, and Edward threw her his wallet to pay with. Jasper refilled all of our coffee mugs and we all settled in to our dinner by the window, not knowing that this was just the first of many.

Pizza was eaten and drinks were drained, and spilled, and then drained once again in the proper fashion. Eventually, since I was the victim of a flailing Alice and her drink, I had to move off of Edward's lap to change out of my wet jeans, to both of our dismay.

"I have sweatpants from high school. You will wear those!" Edward declared loudly as he dumped me off of his lap and I began to laugh.

"Gross, Edward, those are only about a hundred years old," Alice complained, lifting her head off of the pillows for the first time since she put it there.

While we were eating Jasper had been tearing little pieces of pizza apart and tossing them into her mouth. It was silly at first but they were frighteningly good at it so it sort of just became weird in a cute, amusing, awesome sort of way.

"I don't mind. I like Edward's gross stuff," I laughed. Or, rather, the whiskey laughed for me.

"Yeah, she likes every fucking part of me, that's why she's rad," he commented happily as he disappeared through the doorway that led to the hallway that led to his bedroom.

I waiting in the living room, leaning against the couch for support since my legs were in sea mode and standing in an imaginary sea of alcohol is difficult.

"Alice, do you want to have breakfast with me?" Jasper asked as we all waited for Edward's return.

"Maybe. Where would we go?"

"Anywhere. I'll take you anywhere."

"Ha. Fine. I want crepes. Real crepes! From Paris. Take me there," she challened, cackling evilly to herself and poking him in the stomach with her toe once again.

"Done."

They shared a smile again and this time it took Alice longer to snap out of it because her drunkenness was making her less and less immune to Jasper's charm.

"I don't want to go anywhere, really. Not to Paris, well, not tomorrow. Rose will make me something yummy, I'm sure."

"I'll still bring you crepes."

She sighed and the smile fell off of her face in a resigned way. It fell onto the floor next to their boots where it waited paitently for her permission to return.

"I know you will."

Watching them made me a mixture of happy and sad. I couldn't decide which emotion either of them felt, either, but luckily I didn't have to dwell on it too long before Edward waltzed back in with his sweatpants.

"They're not actually gross. I wouldn't do that to you," he murmured in my ear, pushing his lips against me while he spoke because he was full of the same things as I was and they make you want to lean into people.

"Thanks," I replied simply, trying to pull the sweatpants from his grip so that I could go change into them.

He held steadily onto the other end of them and pulled me further into him, just like he'd tried to do months ago with my towel when I very first had him back and he was soaking wet because he snuck into my room through my window in the middle of a storm.

I smiled at the memory and at the fact that I wasn't afraid of letting him pull me close anymore.

One of his arms wrapped around me and his mouth fell to mine. His lips began moving in a slow pulling pushing motion and I think I heard myself moan into his lips.

"All right, sugar, I think it's time to make our grand exit," Jasper announced a little louder than I was used to hearing him speak.

"Good call. I'm not about to sit here and watch my brother deflower anyone."

Both of us started laughing and Edward turned his lips from mine but kept our heads and bodies connected as he turned to look at our two departing companions.

"No one is deflowering anyone tonight. Bella and I need to _talk_," he declared with a wide smile.

"You remembered!" I cheered, happily.

"Of course."

"Sure," Jasper chuckled as he and Alice both slid on their boots.

"We _are_ just going to talk," I commented, convinced of it being the truth until Edward's hand chose that moment to slip under the fabric of my shirt again.

"I'm not doubting your good intentions, Darling. I'm just warning you, this train is going full speed down the tracks now. You better hold on tight."

I smiled and nodded at him, unsure of what that really meant but agreeing to it anyway because it sounded exciting and I wanted to hold on to Edward for as long as possible.

Jasper and Alice said thier final goodbyes and bickered their way out the door as they tried to decide whether or not they could make it to Rose's before she passed out or if a better idea would be to just get a motel room close by.

You can guess who had which argument.

When the door shut the room was quiet.

Very quiet.

Intrudingly so.

Edward's hand started to move up and down my back very slowly and I allowed my eyes to close because it felt so good.

"Do you want to talk now?" he asked softly, brushing his lips over my cheek as he spoke.

I nodded my head and he nodded back and then took my hand and led me into the hallway I'd never been in. The one that led to his bedroom.

He dropped me off at the bathroom and instructed me to change into the sweatpants and, "also do whatever other get ready for bed girly shit" I needed to.

When I emerged an impressive six and a half minutes later all of the lights in the front rooms were off so I walked towards the small pool of light coming from the end of the hallway.

Edward's room was nice. It was very him.

I think I imagined it more messy then it actually turned out to be, though there were traces of boy here and there that weren't the most tidiest of sights.

He had a large entertainment system that looked to be primarily for music listening. There were CDs literally everywhere. He was actually tossing a few from the bed to the nightstand as I walked in.

His bed wasn't too large, but it was bigger then what was required for one man. I didn't think about what that meant in regards to the company he kept in bed. He was with me now. Here, officially, with with me. The past didn't have to matter anymore.

"You're cute in my shit," he so eloquently complimented me as winked and looked me up and down.

I was glad he chose the word "cute" because I knew I was hardly alluring. The pants were too long for me so I'd rolled them a bit. My sweatshirt wasn't too big, but sweatshirts aren't normally the most attractive articles of clothing. My hair was a mess, I could feel it.

I smiled in response and silently appreciated how cute he looked himself in his gym shorts and sweater.

"You're sleeping in the bed with me, right?" he asked as he pulled down the comforter and rearranged the pillows.

"Duh."

"Good. I wasn't going to let it be any other way, but something in my brain told me to be a gentleman and ask."

We both laughed at his statement and I couldn't take it anymore.

I walked over to him and slid my hands around his torso from behind. He immediately responded to my touch, leaning back into me and entwining our fingers.

He lifted one of my hands to his mouth and placed a soft, long kiss on my knuckles.

Then he pulled me around his body and fell so both of us landed on the bed wrapped up in each other's arms.

"You look good on my bed," he whispered.

I smiled and kissed him, pushing him for more when his lips remained closed to me.

I moved mine against his and snaked my hands into his hair as I rolled over to gain more control of the situation. Eventually his mouth opened to me and my tounge slid against his slowly, longingly.

He groaned and grasped my hips, pulling me more completely on top of him.

"I thought you wanted to talk," he gasped as my lips found his jawline.

"I do want to."

"Well then you better fucking cut this out," he laughed breathily.

"I don't want to."

He laughed heartily at that and then curled his arms around me firmly and rolled us over onto our sides.

My lips lost contact with his skin and I pouted.

He kissed the pout off of my lips very sweetly and then pulled back and stared me in the eye.

"I'm very drunk and you're very tempting, but I'm not getting all into this sexy shit if you're just going to remember we have to talk half way through."

I sighed dramatically and got a little bit upset that he was right. That probably would have happened.

"Fine. You're right. Damn."

He squeezed me tight and kissed me thoroughly once more before sitting up and encouraging me to get under the covers with him.

"Where shall we begin?" he asked lazily once I was re-settled at his side.

"Well, I never got to tell you how my time with James went," I replied, no longer feeling the pain of what happened sting me. Sure, it was still there. He was still a selfish ass who effected those he came into contact with. But Edward's arm was around me and he smelled good so nothing really hurt in this moment.

"Do tell."

"He left me again. It took me a few minutes to gather the will to go in and then when I finally do he runs away like a coward after he gets his say. He was married, Edward."

"Yeah. He's married now, huh?"

"Yes. To the same girl he was married to while he and I were together."

The air around us stilled. I was drunk and things were a little swirly, but I felt Edward pull all the air into him and I was certain it wasn't a good sign.

"That fucking douche. How did that not destroy you? Jessica told me he was married but she didn't inform me of the timeline."

"It almost did destroy me until I realized that it shouldn't. Not anymore. When did you see Jess?"

"I went over to Newton's while you were gone. I couldn't figure out what to do with myself so I just walked and that's where I ended up because I knew she knew him and that she would probably tell me things I wanted to know. We had a smoke and a conversation that revolved entirely around you."

"She knew he was married?" I asked, bewildered and wondering why the hell I hadn't been informed before now if one of my best freaking friends knew this whole entire time.

"Yeah, uh, she knew. She didn't tell you for her own reasons. I mean, shit Bella. They were all around right after he left you and all I've heard since I entered your life is how messed up you were about it. I think she just didn't know how to add to the crap fest, you know?"

His hand was in my hair, stroking lightly. I wasn't sure he was even doing in consciously but it was nice and it helped soothe my fire.

"Yeah, I'm sure she has a good reason, this is all just still a shock to me so it's hard to hear that everyone else was in the know. I'm trying to let it go, though."

"It's ok if you need to be shocked for a little while, Bella. And angry. We can slow down if you need time to process. As long as I can keep touching you, of course."

I smiled at his kindness and kissed his cheek. He turned to me and captured my lips with his. The sweetness started to escalate into something else and he pulled away with a small groan.

"All right, fuck that, maybe you should just get over it and marry me."

We both laughed and I hit his shoulder lightly.

"Enough with the marriage proposals!" I demanded. "They're cute but they make me nervous because sometimes I think you might be serious."

"Bella, I'm always serious about those. Well, that last one was sort of a joke because I want your body. But evey single time I've asked you to marry me besides that was serious. This isn't an infatu-fling for me and it better not be for you either because I'm not-"

"Wait, what's an infatu-fling?"

I had to laugh a little bit because the term sounded absurd. He was all seriousness, though.

"It's the little infatuated flings you've been having with boys ever since James left you. Jess told me about them. I don't think that's what you're all about with me because you've been so cautious, but it's still something I want to clear up. What I want with you is for real."

"That's actually something I wanted to talk to you about," I sighed as I moved away from him a bit, just so I could really look him in the eye. "After James left I was a wreck. Everybody knows it and everybody's told you about it, I know. I didn't trust any boy but I still wanted to feel desired by them so I'd find one that I thought could like me for a day or two and then I'd force myself to loose interest before they did. I started developing a system in my head where I could pretend we were actually dating for the small amount of time I had them around. I did that with you, actually, but only until you started talking to me. Then I was too overwhelmed to do anything but be afraid of you."

I paused and laughed quietly. He looked cocky for a second and then returned his features to patient, listening mode so I could continue.

"Anyway, the only boy I did trust I ended up taking advantage of. And now I've lost that friendship because of the lines that I let blurr between me and him and me and you. I should have kept everything clear between everyone until I really knew how I felt. But, and this is what I really wanted you to know, I guess I always knew how I really felt for you."

"And how is that," he asked, dipping his head closer to me.

"I've always wanted you. Clearly. The first moment I saw you at Jess and Mike's I was just... I don't know... drawn to you. Everything about you intrigued me. I'd just spent the summer away from Seattle because it was all the same to me and I wanted to be different. And then I get back and everything here is different just because I found out you existed. I don't even know if any of this is making sense, Edward, but you have to know that even though I was so scared of you and what I felt for you over the past few months, what I do feel is real and I'm ready for it. It's not a fling and it's not just an infatuation. There are a ton of things about you that I can't stand, after all."

His responding smile was breathtaking and I couldn't help but run my finger over it.

"You, my Bella, just made my life complete. I thought I was going to have to make you marry Alice for a little while there. But no! You're still mine. Fuck Alice."

Before I had a chance to ask him what the hell he was talking about I was being kissed by him again, deeply.

His hands wandered a bit under my clothing and I wrapped my legs up in his because I loved the feeling of him against me.

"If we're going to do this for real you're going to get sick of me sometimes," he said between kisses.

"I don't doubt that, it's already happened. You always make me like you again pretty quickly, though," I laughed.

"I'm not going to stop saying exactly what I think. I hear that girlfriends don't always like that. And you are my fucking girlfriend now. I'm telling everyone."

"I love that you are honest all the time, Edward. My boyfriend."

"God, we sound like we're in junior high with this boyfriend girlfriend shit. I love it."

We laughed again and kissed some more. I felt at home and excited. I felt new and just like I'd been settled in this place forever.

"I'm not a morning person so I will be mean to you when you wake me up, everytime," I warned.

"That's fine. I'll probably do it on purpose, I think you're adorable when you're pissed."

"That's weird."

"That's me, baby."

His words spurred me on, making me want him even more because this was just so easy and right. Perhaps the whiskey was pulling me by the hand as well but that was just fine because it was about time I got a shove in the right direction.

"I don't have anything besides coffee cups and paper bowls to feed you out of," he admitted randomly.

"I like your coffee cups. They tell stories of your life. I called Alice and asked her if you'd ever been married on my way over here after my distaster dinner with James earlier."

"She didn't disclose my secret betrothal the Princess of Morocco, did she?" he gasped.

"She did. But I decided that I didn't mind that."

He kissed me again through our laughter until it subsided and we pulled apart.

"What is your dating history, anyway?" I wondered out loud as I played with his hair.

"Oh boy. It's unconventional and just a mess, really," he admitted with a large sigh. "There really aren't many details to disclose. I like attractive women. They like me. I've always been taught that using people isn't nice so I've never crossed that line but it may seem like it to people who don't know me because I've never made a commitment before. But every female who has ever kissed me has known what the fuck is up. Whether they chose to believe it or not is another thing..."

I grunted in response and studied his face. The whiskey was making him a bit rougher around the edges, I think, to my eyes. He was definitely smooth and irresistable but there was a toughness about his face that I hadn't seen before. It told of what he'd been through. Just the basic dealings of life, I suppose.

"You're a heartbeaker Edward Cullen. No matter if you want to be or not."

"That's funny," he said as he pulled me closer to him and kissed my temple. "My mother says the same thing to me all the time. She'd fucking love you. My dad, too, of course."

"Do they know about me yet?"

"Hell yes. They're on standby for whenever you finally accept my proposal."

"Oh. Well I want to meet them."

"They want to visit but I'm not sure when or if that will even really happen. There's probably a lot better chance now that Alice is here. They've been vacationing in France for a month so I don't know if they even know she's here. They're very, uh, eccentric. My grandfather was a huge deal in the doctoring world so my father inherited quite a lot of dinero when the old man kicked the bucket. My family has been living the high life ever since. No schedules, no responsibilities outside of each other... none of that normal stuff."

"Neither of them work?"

"Nope. Both of my parents lived in the real world before, very studiously I might add, so when the time came for them to be blessed with leisure they ran with it and dragged Alice and I along for the ride. It's probably why we've had skewed views of relationships for so long. We're so used to having things given to us, working for something seems tedius. I mean, I paint for a living. Alice shops."

It took me a second to digest all of this. Partly because I was getting really freaking tired and partly because I was floored at how different our lives were.

It wasn't scary though. Just exciting and interesting and I felt really satisfied with all of the non-freaking out I was doing.

"Edward, I want to meet them," I repeated, this time sort of pleading.

"You will. Are you tired?"

I nodded my head and closed my eyes, completely content. Another important thought drifted through my head before I gave in to sleep so I hurried to get it out.

"I have to repair my friendship with Jake, too. I hope you don't punch him again."

His hand in my hair stilled for a moment but then it continued stroking and he let out a long breath.

"I figured you'd want the Indian back eventually."

"I'm sorry. But he really was there for me during a hard time and I wasn't very fair to him even before you showed up and I know he did and said some crappy things, too, but I can't let things stay this way, even if we aren't ever as close as we used to be."

My words were rushed because the tiredness was hurrying them along. He chucked at me under his breath and then kissed the top of my head.

"Do what you need to do. Punching him probably won't be so much of an issue because now I don't have to lie to him about you being my girlfriend. I can get you to confirm it instead of my fist."

"Edward, you already told him I was your girlfriend?"

"Yep. He didn't believe me which was heinus."

I giggled sleepily and couldn't believe the ridiculosness of the boy laying next to me.

"You're so fucking great Edward Cullen," I said, substituting that for a proper goodnight.

"Don't you forget it."

* * *

**What song (or songs) can always distract you?**

**Mine are probably Gimme Shelter by the Rolling Stones, We Didn't Start the Fire by Billy Joel, and almost any musical song ;)**

**The wait wasn't too long this time. I think that deserves some thoughts, no? hehe...**

**LOVE YOUS**

**-Car**


	13. I'm Gonna Make It Better

**CHAPTER 13 - I'm Gonna Make It Better**

_"Hide in your heart_

_Chase it til the morning"_

- She & Him "I'm Gonna Make It Better"

**Edward**

"Edward, you have to shut the eff up. I can't listen to anymore of you... being so damn happy!"

I laughed at my little sister's expense and kept right the fuck up with my whistling.

"Ok, you douche, could you at least switch it up a little bit? Zippity-Do-Dah get's a little tiring."

She smacked me on the arm and I smiled as I immediately switched my tune to Cruella DeVille's little number from that cartoon with all the puppies in it.

Alice continued to grumble, but I couldn't find it in me to feel bad. I felt fucking fantastic.

I'd woken up in my condo with my lady in my arms, and despite how uncomfortable that may have made Little Edward, big Edward was ecstatic.

The sight of her laying next to me, bathed in light and utter fucking bliss, was something I could potentially wake up to every day. It felt great. It felt new and scary and wonderful and whistle worthy.

"You know Alice, you might want to take stock of my tunes because you'll be whistling on down the road yourself when you finally get your head out of your ass and jump Jasper. Physically and emotionally speaking, of course. Except I don't ever want to discuss you physically jumping him. Ever. I just will understand when you do because he's so damn great."

She snorted and made me stop in front of a the window of a small boutique so she could check out what they had to offer. We were wandering into town on important business but she got distracted by shiny, purchasable objects quite often. Needless to say, our going was slow.

"'ll jump Jasper when I'm good and ready. Not that I'm convinced it will ever come to that."

She sounded so nonchalant about it but I could see through her little Alice ways.

"What are you so scared of, Al? He's a good guy. He loves Muddy, and he's not a man-whore, and yeah, maybe he dances with MJ a little too often, possibly, and his vendetta against nectarines is a little odd, but he's not scary like you make him out to be."

"He's scary to me, ok?"

Her hands were in tiny fists and out of nowhere I almost got too distracted to push her further into this conversation because a girl with brown hair walked by and Bella's eyes flashed into my mind, but I did push her more because that's what siblings are for.

"Why? How is he scary?"

"He just... he's so _convinced_ that he wants me. That I'm exactly what he wants. I'm a catch, I know, but he's just so real about it all the time. I don't know how to handle it. I haven't ever dated anyone for longer than like three months, Edward, how am I supposed to jump into things with a boy that already wants me to live with him?"

"I don't know. Don't you just feel like it's right? That's what happened with me and Bella."

"Oh, the hell it is! She resisted you for quite a while, dear brother. Don't forget that just because she's all over you now."

I scoffed and pulled a cigarette out of my pocket. Like I could forget the dark ages of No Touchy Bella.

"Our history will never be forgotten, don't you worry. I was talking about with _me_, though. Our parents didn't bring us up to be wishy-washy pansies, ok? They taught us to trust ourselves to know what we want. It's fairly obvious you want him. Man up."

"Please, you don't know the first thing about what I want. You just wait until you and Bella have your first fight. Relationships get ugly, Edward, and they are a lot of work. Jasper's my friend right now, that's it, and that's how I treat him because that's what I can handle. You're just making things up about him being perfect for me because you want to live out your little bromance vicariously thorugh me."

"Not true. Mine and Jasper's bromance is perfect fine with or without you in the middle of it. Cut this shit out about not being obvious about wanting him. It's offensive to those of us with all five senses in tact."

"What does that even mean?"

_"Jazzy, let me put my feet in your lap... Jazzy, tell me again why I shouldn't stay at Rose's house tonight... Oh, Jazzy, where'd you get your belt from, that buckle looks cotoure... Get me another drink, ypu make them exactly how I like it..."_

She punched me in the rib, harder than she usually does, and I grunted because of it but still managed to get out another high pitched "Oh, Jazzy" to mock her.

"I do _not_ sound like that."

"You do."

We walked in silence for a few strides. She had her arms crossed and was sort of stomping her Burberry boots and I just wanted to whistle again, but I held it in because Alice was clearly having trouble with all of her feelings for Jasper and I didn't want to rub my happiness in her face even though she was being a pouty, reluctant, denial-filled baby.

"I'll figure out what I want with Jasper eventually," she finally sighed. "I just can't see myself in a real relationship, ever. I don't know how you are so ready to just dive in with Bella. I see that she's a great girl and all, but I really don't get how you are so convinced she's _it_."

"I just know, Alice. No one has ever made me feel this way before."

"How do you feel? Are you sure it isn't just lots and lots of lust, Edward?"

She gave me the stink eye and I rolled my eyes.

"It's not just lust, trust me. I've had to keep my hands to myeslf for months now. If what I felt for Bella was soley based on my physical attraction to her then I would have hit the road weeks ago. Instead, you know, it just made me like everything else about her even more. Surprisingly enough when your mouth isn't attached to someone else's you learn a lot about them."

She snorted a laugh and shook her head a little bit but I could see the wheels in her head turning. I bet she was working hard not to get to know Jasper, either, but it had to be impossible because he was just a guy who gave you all of who he was every minute you were with him.

"First mom and dad, and now you. I swear I'm getting way too bogged down with this true love crap," she said indignantly.

"See, that's another thing I don't get. Mom and dad have this perfect relationship. You'd think it would help encourage your belief in finding a soulmate and all that shit. Their story is pretty incredible."

"Yeah it is, except for the ending," she said darkly.

This did not sound good. As far as I knew our parents were running around Paris in all of their loving fucking bliss, just like normal.

"What does that mean?"

"They don't want you to worry since you're starting a new life out here or whatever, but there's some bad stuff going on that I think you need to know about. I didn't want to spring it on you like this... but it's part of the reason why I'm in Seattle."

"What's going on, Al?"

She paused for a second and did the thing she does where she twists her purse strap around her wrist. This only ever happens when Alice is nervous about saying something out loud, and trust me, it hardly ever happens.

"Mom's got cancer, Edward."

Holy fuck no.

"No," I said, unable to accept this totally false, totally unfair piece of news.

"Yes, you cannot will this one away. They've been trying to figure out how to tell you because we all knew you'd take it the hardest."

Our family was all very close but it was understood that we were kind of paired off in teams of two as well. My mother and I were one solid unit while Alice had our father wrapped around her little finger. This was devestating. Horrid. Unacceptable and utterly shitty.

"No," I said again, this time shaking my head and dropping my voice because it was just starting to hit me that this was one thing I couldn't ignore or run away from or just forget about.

"It's ok, though," Alice said as she entwined one of her arms in one of mine. "She's going to fight it. The doctors think she has a good chance, it's still in the beginning stages and chemo is an excellent option for her. It will be rough for a while but they really do think she has a good chance."

I couldn't really think or move or breathe but pretty soon Alice was tugging on my arm and telling me over and over again that it would be ok.

"Why didn't she tell me herself?"

"Because she didn't know how. They decided to go to Paris for one last romp before she got settled in to start the chemo and they wanted to break the news to you then. I thought that waiting that long was just unfair, and that you should be told in person, so I offered to do it myself. Jasper came to Chicago to help me move because I knew that if I didn't just get my butt out here I would have never worked up the will to do it, ever. I'm so sorry, Edward."

I nodded at her and threw my arm around her shoulder to try and convey my appreciation. I couldn't process all of this right now but I believed what Alice said about everything being all right.

I had no fucking choice but to believe it. We are the Cullens. We figure shit out. My mom would beat this.

Alice asked if I wanted any more details but I declined. I needed to hear the rest from my mom and I could wait for that. For now I just wanted to hold on to my hope and the bliss I found with Bella. That would help me get through anything because it had already started to change me for the better.

I thanked Alice for breaking the news to me because I knew it had to have been a sucky situation for her. Whatever anger or disappointment I felt I was going to save for later.

Today was good. Everyone was still alive, still full of hope, and still enjoying life. If there's one thing my mother has taught me then it's been the value of time and the importance of not wasting it.

I swallowed down my fear and decided our converstaion switched to the task at hand. I had a big decision to make today and Alice was helping me with my purchase. I only hoped she and I would see eye to eye on what would work best for Bella and I.

**xXx xXx xXx **

An hour later we were walking back towards my place and I was feeling a whole hell of a lot unlike myself because Alice's mission had been accomplished, she had won all of our debating over the purchase, and I was holding a fucking iPhone in my hand.

"I hope it never runs out of battery, I don't think I could turn it on by myself," I mumbled as I turned the device over in my hand and continued to be baffled by it's design. There was no clear power button anywhere.

And it was so damn shiny. And slippery.

"You'll be fine. Bella has one. She can help you."

Alice was smug because she's been begging me to get a cell phone ever since junior high but I've never wanted one. They were a hassle to me. I don't need to be available 24/7 to the public. I don't need seventeen different ways for people to have that contact with me, either.

At least that's the way I've always seen it.

Most of the people in my life have always disagreed and none of it ever mattered until I realized that _Bella_ will probably want to get in touch with me now whevenever she feels like it, and I need to be readily available to that because I don't want to miss any opportunity for her to spring a booty call on me.

The damn thing slipped from my fingers as I tried to turn it over in my palm again, but I caught it before it plummeted to the cement sidewalk.

"There's no way this thing is going to make it under my care," I laughed.

"That's why we got you the case."

"I don't want the damn case, Alice, I told you that while you were buying it. I don't need accessories for my accessories like the majority of the female population."

"It's not girly, Edward, it's a safety precaution. So what if it's also fashionable?" she argued as she actually started unwrapping the God-awful designer phone case she had insisted on purchasing for me.

"Bella doesn't have a case on hers," I whined.

"She will now. I bought her a matching one with yours."

Oh my God, my sister is a lunatic. No part of me wanted matching phone cases, not even with my Bella. I pulled out the phone and tapped on the small box that opened the text messaging system.

This all seemed so unimportant compared to the thoughts I had lurking in the back of my mind about my mother and her sickness, but I didn't want to dwell on those today so I went on with my business and I found her name in my contacts. _Bella Bella Bella _popped up and I tapped on it to insert it into the text message recipient line. I texted her the good news of my official participation in the twenty-first century and shook my head as the little green text bubble popped up.

This new technology crap was so weird. I've been so out of the loop. I thought that most text messages still required you to use numbers and stupid capitolized letter abbreviations. Wasn't there supposed to be a character limit on these things? Not anymore. This was like a little cartoon conversation with colorful thought bubbles and it was going to take some getting used to.

The last time I did anything digital I was fifteen and opened my first yahoo email account that I used for about a week until I realized that the only emails a fifteen year old got back then were spam and chain letters.

Now here I was, fucking texting a girl that made me want to run away from everything that was current technology. Waking up with her in my bed this morning made me want to revert back to the age of the caveman because if I could strip away all of the things that make this world cluttered and just throw her over my shoulder and claim her as mine forever and carry her off to our own private world, I would. Now, more than ever, I felt like running away forever but instead of doing that I opted for a quick romp in the digital world with Bella instead.

**iPhone**

_Hola my Bella. Look at me! I'm texting._

_**The world must be ending. Which sucks because I just let this total hottie put his hands all over me and I was sort of hoping for a repeat performance many times in the future.**_

_Jasper better not be fucking touching you..._

**_And what if he was? What are you going to do about it?_**

_Have him tortured and then assasinated, obviously. I could probably do it instantly from my new phone. Alice assures me that there's an app for everything._

**_Haha. So... what are you doing now?_**

_Coffee with Al. We have some family things to discuss. I'll tell you about it later._

**_Ok. Well, I thought of something that I need to tell you._**

_Proceed_

**_It's just... ugh. Ok, you have to know this sooner or later... my feet smell sometimes because I hate wearing socks with flats. It's just a warning because you'll probably find out soon since, you know, you're officially my boyfriend now and all that_**

_You are so fucking ridiculous. I know that your feet smell, Bella. I've practically been living at your apartment for months now. You're shoes are about ten times worse in cae you didn't know. Just because you were holding out on giving me the goods doesn't mean I wasn't completely aware of everything about you._

**_Oh, gross, you've seriously smelled my feet before? _**

_Yes. They're fine, I don't care. It's not like they are always smelly. Stop being paranoid. I should probably tell you that I sleep in way too often and don't wash my hair enough. That could come off as unproductive sometimes. _

**_Sleeping in isn't a big deal and you're hair is immune to dirt, it's always soft. I hate art museums. Now that I'm dating an artist I feel like I should confess that. _**

_Well, I hate libraries. _

**_I cannot name all of the members in The Rolling Stones. I've only pretended to know the rest of them besides Keith and Mick because I was afraid you'd think less of me if you knew the truth. _**

_I'm hurts, I won't lie. But I cannot say I've ever read a word of Jane Austen, nor do I ever desire to, so I have to confess that I really don't know anything about Pride and Prejudice._

**_You said you read the book and hated it. _**

_I meant to say that I hated it without ever having read it. _

**_You promised you'd never lie to me!_**

_Opps? I mostly just let you believe something untrue... I have actually said I read the thing. I'll bring you a chocolate scone home if you promise to forgive me..._

**_I hate chocolate. And you are already forgiven. My Rolling Stones bluff cancels yours out. _**

_You hate chocolate? This is never going to work between us. _

**_Liar_**

_You caught me again..._

**_I don't like any of the Matrix movies_**

_Bella, that's not a confession. No one really likes any of the Matrix movies._

**_I've never seen all of the Star Wars films_**

_New or original?_

**_Original_**

_Ah, woman! You're worse off than I thought but I'll fix you. _

**_I'm going to need a lot of reassurance all the time that you really really want to be with me_**

_I'm going to need you to marry me one day._

**_... What am I going to do with you?_**

_You sure as hell are going to text me alot. These thought bubble things are actually fucking awesome. _

**_Ha, you got it. Come home soon. Your bed is cold._**

_Fuck, you're still in my bed?_

**_Yes sir. But I'm not still in your sweatshirt..._**

_Holy hell, I literally just knocked Alice out of the way to get out the door. Do you think they have a teleporting app?_

* * *

**I'm leaving for Australia today, for 2 1/2 weeks! That's why I hurried to get this update out and that's why it's sort of short... I didn't want to leave you guys with nothing from PDA land for that long! **

**I don't have a question for you this time. Do you miss it?**

**Send me your thoughts, please! I need to know if what I'm doing is pleasing to you, even if it is a silly little chapter like this one )**

**LOVE YOUS**

**-Car**


	14. The Dog Days Are Over

**CHAPTER 14 - The Dog Days are Over**

_"Happiness, hit her, like a train on a track_

_Coming towards her, stuck, still no turning back..."_

- Florence & The Machine "The Dog Days are Over"

**Bella**

Being in a relationship hurt.

I'd forgotten.

In the months I'd spent running from anything that resembled a normal relationship I'd forgotten what this unique pain felt like or how hard it was to execute this type of care for another person.

It wasn't that Edward didn't understand my need for him to tell me he wanted me every single day. Because he definitely did that, exceedingly well. Every. Single. Day.

It wasn't hard because he still asked me to marry him all the time and I still had to say no. We'd been together officially for, what? Almost three weeks. I was crazy for him, completely and insanely more attracted to him than ever before now that he had his hands on me all the time, but marriage was not on my agenda.

The reason why I resented this relationship at times was because it freaking hurt to be away from him for any amount of time. Like, _any_ amount of time.

**What the hell is taking so long?**

_I'm heading home soon. If you hadn't taken so long in the damn shower you could have come with me._

**If you hadn't kept me up so late I wouldn't have wanted to sleep in.**

_Ha. You're lucky I let you rest when I did ;) _

I sighed and set my phone down and smiled to myself. Edward was very talented at touching me and keeping me up all hours of the night. We hadn't had sex yet but we had rounded a few bases and for now it was nice. I knew sex would come. I honestly thought it would come sooner than this. But the intensity between us was thick and crossing that line would only make it worse. Or better, depending on how you looked at it. Neither of us saw sex as something casual and neither of us saw our relationship as something casual. So it was sort of a big deal.

Still, I was surprised it hadn't happened yet.

But something was off with him and that's what I really thought was holding us back. He was still himself, still ridiculous and moody and wonderful. But something wasn't right, something incredibly subtle, and I had a feeling it was the reason for him not pushing for us to cross the final physical line. He seemed a bit more worried than usual, but about what I wasn't sure. He and Alice spoke in hushed voices sometimes, away from the rest of us. He called his parents almost everyday. It was sweet and I didn't see anything wrong with these actions individually, but there was a new quietness about him that I didn't understand and none of it added up to any sort of answer.

I had decided to trust him, though. And nothing about the way he treated me directly was anything less than extraordinary, so I wasn't worried about what this thing hanging over him meant for us. I was simply concerned for what it had to do with bringing him down.

The day continued to drag as Edward continued to not come home. He told me he had errands to run today. Usually that meant that he needed some odd thing or another for the class he taught or a project he was working on himself. A paintbrush, or canvases, or cigarettes. Sometimes he'd come back with a higher quality liquor that he was excited about. Sometimes it was the 12.99 tequila he seemed to enjoy too much.

I was sitting by the bay window, reading a book about Patti Smith that Edward insisted I would fall in love with, when the door banged open.

Emmett sauntered in, posse in tow, with a smirk and a bottle of Jack Daniels.

"Lady Stella, you look especially bright in the sunlight today," Jasper said charmingly as he dumped Alice off of his back and onto Edward's couch.

She laughed like a bell and waved at me with one finger.

Rosalie pushed Alice's feet off of the couch and sat down in the space they vacated. She waved at me as well, but it was with her whole hand and a roll of her eyes.

Both of us were sick of Alice's "I don't love Jasper" campaign, when she clearly could not get enough of him. In the past three weeks nothing had changed with them, not on the outside at least, but we were all just waiting for Alice to cave.

As Jasper settled cross legged into Edward's leather recliner and Emmett made his way into the kitchen yelling something about Mike and Jess getting "stuck" in the elevator I dog-eared the page I was on and took a moment to appreciate just... everything.

This was how our life was now. The eight of us had formed a complete unit now that Edward, Alice, and Jasper were around constantly. We regularly met up for smoky, happy evenings. You could usually find us at Edward's, since his place had the best window ratio and most livingroom space. But really anywhere worked with us. We were forming a family bonded with music, night air, and a shared longing for simple bliss.

We weren't a needy bunch and we were so different but so perfect together.

I smiled to myself, wanting to keep it a safe, hidden moment but Jasper caught me.

"What has your lips turned up, darling?"

He smiled at me through the twisting swirls of smoke around his head and suddenly I wished that I was a photographer, that I could learn to capture these moments forever on film, for me and for them. So that we would have proof that such a thing as _us_ existed.

"I'm just enjoying the moment," I replied as I set my book down on the table and pulled the sleeves of Edward's oversized (well, oversized on me) thermal down.

With Jasper's constant haze there was a strict "no closing the window" rule in each of our houses now, so the breeze was often in our presence as well.

"Which moment?" he asked with intense interest.

"Well, mostly all of them."

His smile widened and he handed his joint to Rosalie without even looking at her.

"Me too."

**xXx xXx xXx**

An hour or so later I was sitting on the floor in between Jasper and Jess, sprawled out on the giant floor rug singing to Rod Stewart's lament of the infamous Maggie May.

Jack Daniels and MJ had joined our little party, and half of us were sitting on the floor even though the entire couch was open. Rosalie was on Emmett's lap in the recliner and my hands missed Edward's really badly.

"Where did you say Edward is?" I asked Alice, for probably the ninth time.

"I said I don't know where he is."

"Oh."

That's right. Alice knew as much as I did. He had errands to run.

"He texted me earlier. Said something about alone time," Emmett said.

"Alone time?" I asked in surprise. "Edward hates being alone."

"No, Edward likes being alone. He hates being lonely," Alice clarified.

"What's going on with him?" I decided to ask. I hadn't brought it up with her yet, but I knew she was in on whatever was bothering him.

"He hasn't told you?"

"No. Will you tell me?"

"I really think it should be him."

I sighed leaned my head on Jess' shoulder.

"Is he ok?"

"Uh, yeah. He's fine, technically. Just ask him, Bella. He'll tell you what's going on."

"Do you want me to ask him?" Jess offered as she ran a hand through my hair.

I laughed a little bit. She's so nice. So simple.

"No, of course not. I'm not afraid of asking him, I guess I just assumed if something was really wrong he would tell me about it without me having to ask."

I shrugged and Alice nodded then the mood shifted from my concern to the music flooding the room as The Kinks' "Sunday Afternoon" came on. Something about this song made you remember what made you happy, and I liked that it started to distract me from worrying about Edward's secret sadness.

But, damn. Edward hated missing a good playlist. I needed to get him here.

I excused myself from the room and sank down on his bed as I tapped his name on the screen of my phone.

It only rang once before he picked up. I could hear his breathing before his voice, and it sounded cold.

"I know, I'm out here being a fucking prick while you are all warm and cozy in my apartment waiting for me. I know, Bella. I'm sorry."

"It's not a big deal. I'm just worried about you."

"Don't be. I'm just walking. Around. To nowhere. Like a lost idiot."

"And you're alone?"

"Yeah. I stopped by the restaurant a little bit ago but Aro and Marcus were too loud tonight. I left. Now I'm just wandering."

"What's wrong? What's going on with you?"

I knew he'd tell me and I hoped I truly was ready to help him with whatever his answer was.

I could feel a stillness on the other side of the line.

"Bella, my mother's got cancer. She's fighting it, but it's not going well, and I'm fucking scared and the only thing that makes me feel like I'm doing anything even close to being productive is walking. I don't know why. I think being in motion helps my subconscious."

I sighed and leaned back into the headboard.

This was big. And horrid. And I had never even met Esme Cullen but I knew her bond with Edward was strong and unique and my heart broke at how small his voice sounded.

"Bella, my mother's going to die."

I don't know what I expected to feel when I found out what was wrong with him. I think a certain amount of relief was associated with how I'd imagined it going. Relief that he trusted me enough to share his burdens with me. Relief over being one hundred percent certain that he wasn't doubting us as a couple.

There was nothing other than sorrow flooding me now, though, because it was quite clear that I loved Edward. So anything that broke him broke me. Though now I knew it was my job to be less broken of the two of us, at least this time, so that we could one day both be whole again.

"I'm so sorry..."

"Yeah. I haven't really processed it until now. But I talked to her earlier today and she didn't sound good. She sounded so damn unlike herself. This is the first time I've really broken down about it but I'm fighting it. Her weakness just sounded more real today. Too real."

"Edward, come home. Everyone's here. They can leave if you want them to. I can, too, if you need to be alone tonight. Just don't go through this on a random street somewhere."

"I'm not used to being scared, Bella. Even with you I was sure that we'd figure it out. That you'd give in to me. I was impatient, but never scared."

A small smile formed on my face. A little bit of his smooth confidence seeped back into his tone. It warmed me.

"And you were right. Come home."

"I can't fix this one, though. I can't become a doctor and heal her. I can't ignore it until it's gone. I cannot shrink down into her skin and absorb it myself and extract it from her. I can't do anything. I'm useless to her."

"Stop it. You can love her. You do love her, Edward. I'm sure that's all she needs right now and all she wants from you. Come home."

Silence.

That's what I sat with for the next full mintue.

I knew he was still there because I could hear wind hitting the reciever on his end.

So I waited. For him to say something, anything. For him to give in and get the frick back into his condo that was forgiving, and warm, and somewhere that his heartache could thrive safely.

"Ok, yeah, I'm coming back," he finally quietly spoke.

"Good. Thank you," I responded, feeling a lot better.

"Don't make the others leave. If they want to, they can, but they don't have to. I'll try to shake this crappy ass mood I'm in, but I have no idea if I can right now. So I might be possibly the worst company ever tonight, but if they don't give a fuck than neither do I," he said in a stronger voice right before I heard the faint and now familiar _click click_ of his lighter.

"That's fine."

"But no matter what they do you will stay. Tonight. Forever. You will stay with me, Bella."

I chuckled and agreed with him. It wasn't a command, it was actually sort of cute the way he stated it more as a fact being rattled off by a fifth grade boy proudly rattling off the latest science fact he had learned.

"Forever" is a big word. It is equivalent to, if not even more overwhelming than, "marriage" but I wasn't going to argue with him on anything like that now. He needed me. He needed to believe that I wasn't going anywhere ever, and I wasn't, no matter if we were going to make it legal or not.

"How close are you?" I asked as I stood up and prepared to go back to the others in the cloudy safehaven of the livingroom rug.

"Close."

"All right. Hurry."

"Will do."

I nodded and before I could take the phone from my face and hit "end" he spoke again.

"Oh, and Bella? Fuck it. Don't let them leave. Make them stay. And make them fun. I just want to have some fucking fun."

**xXx xXx xXx**

I announced to the room Edward's demands and was met with immediate action.

Jess turned off the main lights and plugged in the white christmas lights she'd begged Edward to hang up two weeks ago. They matched the strands that were entwined around the rafters of Mike's gazebo, the very ones that first illuminated Edward for me, and he liked to complain about them making the room look cheap but I knew that on nights like these, when they were the only thing on, he enjoyed the ambiance they provided.

Emmett ran into the kitchen and mixed another round of drinks.

Jasper turned the music up and Alice untied the navy silk scarf from around her neck and attached it to her wrist so that it flowed as an extension of her arm as she pulled Mike into the middle of the room to dance with her.

Rosalie fled to the bathroom and then came back out and danced with me until Emmett came back in with a tray of drinks and then we all moved together in one big group as we sipped some more and awaited Edward's return.

He must have been farther away than he made it seem to me when he muttered, "close" into the phone because twenty three minutes later The Stones' "Sweet Virginia" started and Edward still wasn't there.

The dancing was still going, though. Jasper had picked up Edward's acoustic guitar and was playing loudly along with the recording. Alice and Jess were taking turns on tambourine duty and before my worry of Edward could peak and take me away from the extravagent soul of the song the front door opened and shut with a soft click, barely announcing his presence.

Jasper smiled widely and kept playing. Alice blew Edward a kiss from across the room and Emmett held up his drink.

He looked frayed. Torn and a little bit upset. Wild, even. I could see it in his eyes, the unease that was now fully formed because he wasn't hiding his anguish about his mother from me anymore.

But still, even from across the room, I could see the shine of gratefullness mixed in there, too. He was home now and everything that made our lives in Seattle full was here, in full swing.

He stared at me for a solid thirty seconds, making no attempt at coming further into the room.

"What are you waiting for?" I asked.

He blinked once and then shrugged out of his coat and let it drop to the floor behind him.

In a few strides he was with me, drink in one hand, me in the other, and we were swaying to his favorite song in the midst of smoke and sorrow and friends.

He pulled me closer to him, wrapping me tightly in his one armed hold and kissed me hard before all of our voices mixed in a loud, drunken, beautiful mis-matched harmony.

_"But come on, come on down Sweet Virginia, _  
_Come on, come on down, I beg of you. _  
_Come on, come on down, you got it in you. _  
_Got to scrape that shit right off you shoes."_

At least half of us belted the word "shoes" for far longer than was necessary as the tambourine shook and the laughter started to take over. The next song, a slower Hendrix track, came on and the energy in the room slowed to a lower hum.

Edward set his now empty glass down on the coffee table and then gave me a very delicious whiskey kiss as both of his hands gripped my hips.

I kissed his cheek and looked into his eyes.

"Is this what you wanted?" I asked, nodding vaguely to the scene around us.

"You're what I want, always. And these fools can stick around, too, if they must. My condo has turned into a 60's rock club."

He chuckled a little bit, his drunk, deep chuckle, and I wondered briefly how much of his drink had been Jack and how little of it had been coke.

"You like it," I countered, because he clearly did.

"It's what I want. Tonight. And forever. Even when I can't have my mom."

My heart broke a little bit as his head fell to my shoulder and he released a long sigh into my neck.

We were still moving fluidly to the music together, and Jimmy's sultry guitar sounds pulsed through me, making me feel very much alive despite all the death looming over the man in my arms.

"Why didn't you tell me about your mom sooner?" I asked gently as my hand found it's way to his hair. I knew tricks of comforting him. I was determined to use them all.

"Because I don't want it to be real. And I promised to always be real with you."

I didn't know what to say so I just nodded that I understood. His crazy reasoning was starting to grow on me, starting to become my reality because I had to accept it if I accepted him.

"I want to meet her," I told him.

"I'm supposed to go out there for Thanksgiving. Both Alice and I. We weren't going to originally because my family isn't big on that holiday. But now... fuck. We really want to. Come with us."

"I have to do Thanksgiving with my mom, it's also her birthday," I sighed.

"Come out after."

He kissed my neck gently and I had no choice but to say, "ok."

We danced in near silence for a bit after that. Edward sang along to Jimmy under his breath a little bit, and smiled at me a lot, even if it wasn't the happiest smile he could give.

"You know how you need to be reassured ever single fucking day that I still want you?" he asked softly as Jasper switched the song to another slow number.

"Yeah."

"Well I'm going to need you to tell me that it's going to be ok. Every damn day. I'm going to be a needy bastard with this. This is the only thing I don't know how to deal with."

His walls were breaking again and I wondered if this was how this journey was going to be for him and for us; if he was going to rock back and forth between a solemn calm and shaky fear. I guessed, at least for while, he was.

"I can do that. It will be ok, Edward."

"It's utter shit."

"I know."

"I don't know what my dad's going to do when she... after it..."

"He'll be, ok, too. For her. For you and Alice. You say he's strong. You and Alice will help him."

"Fucking hell. I hate this."

His grip on me tightened and he pressed his forehead against mine. I looked through my lashes, searching through the inch of space between us for his eyes but they were tightly shut, straining to keep everything out.

I wasn't expecting him to cry, and he didn't. But the grief was evident in every part of him.

The song ended and Edward calmed again as Japser twirled Alice over to us. She threw her arms around her brother's waist and he kissed her head. Jasper patted his back and offered him the joint that he'd pulled out of his pocket. Edward refused the pot, as usual, and Jasper winked at him before sticking it in his own mouth and then lighting it up.

"I wish I was a real drummer," Emmett announced in his loud voice as a Who track started playing.

He swatted Rosalie's ass as she took off towards the kitchen.

"Then buy some real drums," Jess replied with an eye roll.

"It ain't that easy, bay-bay. I wouldn't know what to do with real drums."

Emmett pouted, as he often does when he's drunk.

"Don't get too down, Papa Bear," Jasper drawled as he pulled Alice onto the couch next to him.

She untied the scarf from her wrist and retied it around Jasper's belt loop, then hooked her finger through it.

We all settled in around them, Edward and I in the leather recliner as was customary when he was around. It was like our battered throne set perfectly in the middle of the in the dark, rock filled nights of his condo kingdom.

"Why not, Jazz, you and I live most of our lives immersed in rock tunes," Edward argued with a smirk.

"And that's fine for us. We've chosen the path of obscurity. Or it was chosen for us. Our hearts beat in 4/4 time, man. But it's not for our friend here. He's got a whole future ahead of him."

"I thought rock and roll was for everybody," Rosalie said to Jasper with a hint of challenge, using one of his own philosophies against him.

"It's the language of the universe," Jess chimed in proudly.

We all laughed.

"No, it's the _universal language_," Edward corrected as he tossed a throw pillow at her.

"I thought love was the universal language," Alice sighed, poking Jasper in the ribs, no doubt using another one of his own proclamations against him.

"Who ever said they weren't the same thing?" he rebuttled, leaning close to her. "Right miss Bella?"

He kept his face close to Alice but turned his eyes towards me. I had no idea what I had to do with this so I just shrugged.

"Sure."

The Hollies came on and while the sounds of "I'm Alive" flooded the room we settled into a stretch of silence. Edward played with a strand of my hair and I drew circles into his palm. Alice and Jasper continued to stare at each other. Jess closed her eyes and hummed to the tune while she finished Mike's drink for him.

"This is how it's always supposed to be," Rosalie sighed after a few moments as she threw her legs over Emmett's and leaned back into the side of the couch. "I say we never leave this room."

"Agreed," Emmett said, pumping his fist in the air once.

"Pancakes would starve," Jess sighed, frowning.

"Nah, he'd find his way to us," Mike chuckled. "If he can find my feet to chew on under the ten thousand blankets you pile on our bed, he could find us all holed up in here."

"He'd sniff out his Uncle Edward," I said, earning a smile and a nod from the man himself.

"What would we feed him, though?" Jess asked seriously.

"Edward's hot pockets and rock music," Alice giggled.

"No one touches the hot pockets. Not even Pancakes. Those are for special occasions."

"Silly brother, nothing's more special than this."

"The world probably wouldn't even miss us," I said.

"We don't need them anyway," Emmett shrugged.

Rosalie hummed her agreeance and high fived him. We all laughed.

As the song changed once again Jasper picked up the guitar and started a lazy strum pattern, mixing and matching his live sound with the opening chords of "Gimme Shelter". He sighed and shook his head.

"It's too late for all of that. Pancakes has to live in your townhouse and eat real dog food. The real world has to know who we are. Living in this room forever is too 60's for our time. We missed it. We have to work with the magic these days provide. Shit, man. Rock and roll's dead. I should have stayed in school."

His voiced was laced with lazy disdain but we all started quietly laughing anyway.

Because we knew that despite the truth of Jasper's words, we'd be back here night after night creating this feeling.

Because we knew that life was hard but being wrapped inside of good music and friendship and Mary Jane's haze made everything seemed possible, even for just a few minutes.

Because we all knew that Jasper never seriously went to school.

And I knew that tomorrow I'd wake up and have to deal with Edward's pain. It was going to be hard, and it was going to be exhausting, and it was going to suck. But I was finding it very easy to be ready to face something with him, next to him, for him. And I was pleased with how easy this came to me, how I'd forgotten the simplicity of this aspect of relationships.

I rested my head back and shut my eyes and just let the night move on.

Here we were complete, even if all of us weren't quite whole.

* * *

**What era/decade/time period would you go back and live in if you could? And how do you think that would change who you are?**

**I'd definitely choose the 60's. And I think I'd be a lot less "good" than I am now, haha. But the excitement of rock and roll revolution would just be too tempting. **

**I'm sorry this took so long. If you really are upset, let me know and I'll explain myself more thoroughly in a reply rather than a rambling A/N. **

**Please let me know that you're still there. **

**LOVE YOUS**

**-Car**


	15. Torn and Frayed

**CHAPTER 15 - Torn and Frayed**

_"He ain't tied down to no home town_

_Yeah, and he thought he was wreckless..._

_...Well his coat is torn and frayed,_

_It's seen much better days._

_Just as long as the guitar plays_

_Let it steal your heart away."_

- The Rolling Stones "Torn and Frayed"

**Edward**

Once there was a boy who met a girl.

And try as he might, be could not full obtain her affection.

But he needed to. Because even in the midst of everything - every fucked up, unfair, nonsense thing he saw going on in the world - she made sense to him.

From day one.

She resisted him for a while. Longer than he would have liked.

This boy was a resiliant young fucker, though. And he knew that the only things worth having were the ones you had to work for. For quite some time he dreamed only of kissing her even though every dream before her consisted of things of a different kind of affection, like rock songs and half-lusted after fame.

He proposed to her far too many times for her or modern society's liking, and some could say he did things backwards. But his argument was sound. He always knew what he wanted and he wouldn't be a pussy and apologize for going after it. That's not how guys like him work. He proposed to her on bended knee in a park, in the middle of the magazine section of a large franchise bookstore, at the foot of his bed, in front of their friend's refridgerator, and many other places (wherever inspiration struck), but most notably on stage at a Fleetwood Mac concert.

She said no over and over and over again, until one day she said yes.

(Because, really, who can resist love at a Fleetwood Mac concert?)

He worshiped the word. _Yes_.

Yes to him, yes to life with him, yes to loving him. That lucky fucker finally broke her down and got her to be his, forever, for always, for better or for worse.

They needed nothing but each other, too blissed out to care about the world's standards of love.

Because, fuck that.

They made new standards. Better standards.

Their story was and is something worth telling.

And now the girl is dying. And everything is the exact opposite of how it should be.

Unfairly, suddenly, she's being forced to leave behind the boy who chased many things in his life but only ever truly wanted her. She's leaving behind the children their love bore. She's leaving behind this story that sure as hell deserves a better ending than it's getting.

"She deserves a better ending."

I know right away that I sound jacked. That I'm talking out loud in fragmented, nonsensical sentences. I don't care.

And neither does Bella, so I keep going as she strokes my hair and drinks my whiskey.

"Hell, my father deserves a better ending. He can't be alone. Why should he be alone?"

I shouldn't drink these days, but I have been. Not excessively. Well, not any more excessively than usual. It's just that now when I drink I become a moopy little shit, so I should stop.

And today I'm even worse because I'm traveling to Chicago tomorrow morning for the Thanksgiving celebration from hell and I don't want to go.

"All I'm even doing is flying across the damn country to go watch my mom wither away."

I groan and reach for the glass of whiskey but she's drained it already and I'm not even mad because she's fuck-awesome and the only thing that doesn't totally suck right now. Well her, and the vanilla incense that she's burning, and the Muddy Waters album that's playing. Everything besides those three things suck, I know it.

"And did you drink all of my whiskey so that I can't have any more?"

"Yes."

She laughs a little bit, quietly, and keeps running her hands through my hair.

"Good girl. But I thought you liked me better drunk?"

I close my eyes and smirk. She totally likes me a whole fucking lot drunk or not. Doesn't matter. And that's the best.

"I like you all the time. I don't really care. You hate being whiny, though. And..."

"And I'm being fucking whiny," I groan. "You don't think this is way worse than normal Edward? What's wrong with you?"

She laughs and the sound is pretty and I like it no matter how lame it makes me sound.

"Sometimes I do think it's worse, believe me. Sometimes you pay a lot of attention to Jasper when you drink, which I really don't mind, but when you're drunk the attention you give him is more... boisterous. And it's just, I don't know..."

"Are you jealous of my bromance, Bella?"

She's laughing louder now and admitting that yes, she sort of is jealous.

For some reason that makes me feel good. Well, better.

But my mom is dying.

Bella traces her finger over my now closed eyelids. She must be tracing the wrinkles surrounding my eyes because I'm shutting them tight, as fucking tight as possible, trying to squeeze out all the damn badness.

"Have I ever told you how they met?" I ask her.

"Nope. I know that they were fairly young. Hard workers. Inherited a lot of money around the time Alice was born."

"Yeah. Do you want to know? The awesome parts?"

"Of course."

I sigh and smile and grab Bella's hand that is not rubbing my scalp. I kiss it once before I begin to speak because telling this story always reminds me of how my dad has always taught me about the secret magic involved in kissing a girl's hand. Bella deserves magic.

"So they were pretty young, like our age, and ran into each other at some concert at some community college in Chicago. My father was working sound for his friend's band as a favor. He was already in medical school at the time but he's always loved music so he kept doing sound stuff as a hobby. That guy seriously has the best ear on the planet. He taught me how to listen to music. He taught my mom how to feel it. At least that's what she's always said..."

I take a second to not think about how my mom is fucking dying and try to play it off as needing a moment to go poking at something that's gotten into my eye. I'm not on the brink of tears or anything, it's just the first thing I could think of that could possibly give me a second to recollect myself before my fucking throat tightens up and I cannot even mutter Bella's name because I'm falling apart.

I stop rubbing my eye and pretend to wipe the nothing I got out of it off on my pants.

There's no damn way she doesn't know that was a fake-out stall tactic but I know that both of us are going to let me slide.

"So the band is done, and my dad says they were pretty damn good but no one usually notices that stuff for a while, so the crowd was small. He was packing up his shit when he hears this loud yelp and looks up. And there she was, my mom, easily spotted in the midst of the like five other people that were at the show. She was all fucked up fairy tale princess like, jumping around on one foot with her shoes in her hand, cussing out the piece of glass that she had stepped on."

Bella chuckles and I open one eye to look up at her smile. I know, strike two on the Lame-O-Meter but what-the-fuck-ever. She's a hottie and I like looking at her.

"Did he swoop in and go all hot-doctor on her?"

"Indeed he did. I guess she was walking around without her shoes on because she was trying to connect to the earth or some shit. My mom was a totally hippie, by the way. Not the dirty kind, though. She was classy and put together, but in a hippie way. My dad liked the color of her hair the most, he says."

"Is that where you get your color from?" she asks as she tugs on my hair enough for it to feel really good.

"Mmmhm. Yeah. Her's is a little darker."

"I totally get your dad," she says as she tugs again.

"He decided that day, right as he got the glass out of her foot and she gripped his arm super tight, that she was it. He still went to medical school and stayed involved in the music scene, but only really gave a shit about my mom from that day forward. Until Alice and I came along, obviously. He came on too strong, though, she says, and she didn't want to jump on the Carlisle train quite as eagerly as he anticipated she would. He bombarded her with proposals that she denied on a regular basis, much like _some_one we know..."

I poke her leg and she grabs my finger.

"Oh my God! You get that from your father?"

"I sure as shit do! He knows what's up. If you know what you want you go for it. And it worked for him, why shouldn't it for me?"

"Because it's insane, Edward! You cannot just do that to a girl... it's supposed to be special."

I sit up and twist my torso so that I'm facing her. This is serious business because us Cullen men know what the fuck we are doing even when our women doubt us.

"It is special. Bella, every damn moment we're together is special. That's the point."

She huffs and it's cute but I don't say that out loud because I know that right now she does not want to be cute. Her hair is all around her face, messy, and she's a little red from the whiskey she drank for me. I want her really badly right now, in every way, but there's no way in hell I'm proposing because I'm sober enough to realize that it is not the time.

But I definitely want to. She's so damn pretty.

"And now I'm screwed because it obviously worked for your dad and that means you're never going to let up. They're married so she must have accepted one of the proposals."

"Of course she did."

I lean in and kiss her because I'm not allowed to propose right now. I just made that rule for myself so I don't piss her off before I have to leave her for a week.

She responds to me immediately. The kiss is not very long but it's good and I hum against her lips.

"How many times did he have to ask her before she said yes?" she asks me quietly as I kiss her cheek.

"Don't know."

Because now my brain is in Kissy Mode and I'm down to her neck and she smells like my detergent because she's wearing my old sweatshirt again that she was supposed to wash and give back to me.

"But the last one is the only one that counts, right?"

I look up at her, seeing if she gets the point. She does and she nods, agreeing with me.

"How did he ask her the last time?"

"On stage at a Fleetwood Mac concert."

"Holy crap."

Her eyes are wide and impressed. My father does that to people, though. He's always a little bit more than what they are prepared for. A little bit more handsome, a little bit more charming, a little bit more of a jackass, a little bit more kind, a litte bit more dramatic. The list goes on.

"Right?"

"That's epic. No wonder she caved. There's no way you can say no to that."

"Really? Shit. I have to find out when Fleetwood Mac is coming to Seattle."

She laughs and gives me the stink eye a little bit but she also leans in a kisses me again, long and slow.

"If you steal your dad's idea then I'm going to be really upset and say no," she says quietly, keeping her face really close to mine. "It's definitely not special if it's recycled."

"Bella, you wouldn't turn me down in front of Stevie Nicks, would you?"

"Oh, I would."

"Hmm. Bummer. Well she was pretty hot in her day. Do you think she'd help a guy out who was on the rebound?"

I make a silly "come hither Stevie Nicks" face that I know screams of my inebriation because it feels ridiculoud, but Bella just laughs at me and sticks her hands under my shirt as she kisses me again.

"I won't let her have you," she whispers to me, immediately turning the moment serious even though we're joking around.

She's really into touching me and kissing me and stuff lately but we haven't crossed many lines physically yet. Honestly, I want Bella really badly, but I get so distracted with all the shit surround my mom these days, I just can't go there. It's like I've got all this guilt surrounding my happiness because I think that my mother is not. And how fair is that? It's not fair. If she has to suffer then the whole damn world should suffer.

I sigh and try to focus on the spot where Bella's lips are touching my jaw but I'm too damn sad to even be a real man and I know I have to get my shit together because I'm smart enough to know that this is not the way to live.

I tighten my arms around her, really tight, and she's my soul mate so she understands what that means.

She wraps her arms all the way around me and tightens the hug until we're in a vice-grip of each other. I don't know what she's up to, but I'm re-attempting to squeeze all out the bad in my life. I only want to keep the good.

I only want to keep Bella, and the vanilla incense, and my Muddy Waters albums.

The squeezing doesn't help get rid of any of the bad, though, and I want to be discouraged but then loud people barge through my door and I remember that maybe I should consider keeping a few of them around, too.

"Stop doing it, we're coming in!" my sister yells as her and Jasper burst through the door first.

She's holding some sort of bottle in her hand and she's on Jasper's damn back again.

As is the custom now he dumps her off on the couch and she bounces down next to me, fucking up my head for a few seconds because there's still a decent amount of whiskey floating around in there.

I laugh and high five Newton and then Emmett as they make their way in.

Alice's arms wrap around my neck and now she's hanging off of my back like she used to when we were children.

"You ready to head home, brother?"

"Not even kind of."

"Yeah, me either. I'll buy you a drink on the plane if you buy me one," she offers with a sad laugh.

"Fuck that, I'm buying the whole damn cart."

This time her laugh is happier and I look over my shoulder to smile at her. Since her attention span never lasts too long she's off of me the next moment and reaching around me to hold hands with Bella or something.

"How are you holding up, man?" Jasper asks.

"It's going to suck but whatever," I shrug and now Alice is actually climbing over me to get to Bella.

I scowl at her because her hand is pushing on my neck and, _what the hell_? She actually thinks she's going to sit in between us?

That's bull but I need to go to the bathroom anyway, so I'll move her when I get back. I look at Jasper and he's watching Alice with so much damn adoration I have to look away. She's really fucking him up in the love department, but I think it's going to work out so I'm not going to say anything to either of them. I know Bella's worried but I also know that my sister really does want to be taken care of no matter what she tries to believe.

When I come back from the bathroom Alice is drinking something pink and she's sitting in between Jasper's legs against the bottom of my recliner so I don't have to launch her off of the couch. Bella is alone again, obviously needing me beside her to fill all the empty space.

Jess is telling a story about how Pancakes knocked one of Newton's beers over in the yard and will know only take a piss in that one spot. I laugh a little bit along with everyone else as I lay my head back down in Bella's lap and try to forget what a fuckfest the next few days are going to be.

I don't want to be without my lady. I don't want to celebrate anything. And I don't my mom to die.

I squeeze my eyes shut again and try to concentate on anything else besides how damn much I'm dreading everything.

I hear Emmett make a "that's what she said joke" and then I hear Rosalie explain to Jess why the joke was funny.

I hear Newton request that Jasper play some Buddy Holly because I think that his two new goals in life may be:

1. doing Jess without Pancakes interrupting half way through.

And 2. constantly catching me off guard with how much he actually knows about awesome things.

I add Buddy Holly songs and Newton's love of them to my list of things that don't suck and can therefore stick around.

Jasper starts singing "True Love Ways" and I decide to fall asleep because this feeling isn't all that bad and it'd be nice to sleep with it still lingering.

But first I grab Bella's hand and trace the words "marry me" in her palm. And even though there's no way in hell she knows I wasn't just tracing a random pattern she kisses my fingers right as I dot the question mark and I decided to take that as a, "someday," so that I can add her being my hot wife to the list as well.

**xXx xXx xXx **

The next morning sucks for everyone.

Alice doesn't want to leave Jasper. Jasper doesn't want Alice to leave.

I don't want to leave Jasper, and he wants to hop a train and follow us to Chicago cause he doesn't want me to leave either, even if it's less than he doesn't want Alice to leave.

Alice and Bella don't want to be apart because they love each other (but not in the way I thought I was going to have to force them to, so I don't feel like beating Alice up when they hug goodbye for an extra minute or seven).

Bella doesn't want to leave me and I sure as shit don't want to leave her, ever, for anything, especially this.

But we're all adults and this is how life goes, and really, being apart for one week isn't that fucking bad in the big picture of things.

So we all suck it up and part ways and don't make it too dramatic.

Well, Jasper and Alice don't.

She ties a dark purple scarf around his wrist right above his spirit band as she tells him that purple means "I'll miss you."

He nods and gives her a ring with a blue stone on it. I get all nervous for a second until she puts it on the pointer finger of her right hand and he says, "Time isn't really that long, and I'm going to eat blueberries every day. "

Before I can satisfyingly roll my eyes at the damn blueberries (that I still don't understand, by the way) being brought up again Bella's arms are around my torso and her head is buried in my shoulder and I don't care about what I do and don't understand about Jasper.

I don't say anything, I just twist around so she's in my arms, not clinging to my side.

She looks up at me, her eyes are big and sad and I hate it but it's ok because in less than a second I'm going to be kissing her.

I put everything I have into it. I go slow and I go soft, but passionate. She responds in the same way and moves her hands up and down my back before fisting my thermal.

She opens her mouth to me and I groan a little bit because, damnit, I do not want to go without this for a week.

When I pull away she rests her forhead on my chest and sniffs. I'm pretty sure she's not crying and I pray that she doesn't start because that would just be the worst.

"It's only a week," she breathes as she tilts her head up to look at me.

"Seven days. Barely enough time to miss me."

She snorts. It's funny that she does that so I laugh at her.

"You have to go."

"Yeah, I do."

"I'm going to miss you."

"Fuck, Bella. I'm going to crave you."

I kiss her again, harder this time, faster, more desperate. She tugs my hair and I almost lift her up and take her with me as my carry on.

But it's only a week that we're going to be apart. I remind myself of that and let her keep her feet on the ground.

This time she pulls away first and smiles at me.

"Call me whever you need me."

"I will. You, too."

Her smile widens and she runs her hands down my arms. We both know that I only said that out of boyfriend obligation because I'm the weak one right now.

She kisses me again and then Alice comes and drags me away so we can get to the airport on time.

The ride there isn't too bad. We make small talk and fight over what music to listen to.

The check in at the airport isn't bad. We get through the line with time to spare and sit at the gate and Alice shows me how to play some glorified version of Scrabble on my iPhone that everyone's apparently obsessed with.

The flight isn't bad. We have the whole row to ourselves so we use the middle seat to house our iPods, books, and empty drink cups. I didn't lie. We almost do buy the whole cart's weight in alcohol because Alice flirts with the male flight helper guy so he keeps 'em coming the whole way to Chicago and ignores that we're a little tipsy becase we assure him that our very responsible ex-doctor father is picking us up at O'Hare.

Seeing dad at the airport isn't bad. He looks a little more tired than usual but his hair is the same and his Buddy Holly glasses only remind me of the night before when Jasper's singing was making everything bearable.

When we walk into our old house all of the things that weren't bad fade away into the past. Because right there in our fucking perfectly color cordinated living room is our mother, and she looks bad.

We pretend she doesn't, though, because we will never really see her that way, I guess.

No matter what this damn holiday and the days after it bring I know when I lean down and hug her that my mother will never be anything else to me but the most wonderful damn woman I've ever had the privlidge to know. She will always be peanut butter sandwiches cut in the shapes of stars. She will always be sunny afternoons listening to Marianne Faithful really loud in the kitchen. She will always be that way to me, never different.

"Oh Edward, you didn't even have to cut your hair to get a girl to love you," she sighs as I kneel beside her and she tugs on the front of my plane hair.

I smile, because I think she might be right and no sickness or evil or cancer can change that about her.

* * *

**Have your parents ever told you any awesome stories about their youth?**

**My dad told me stories about sitting in the back of a pickup truck in a field with his football friends smoking weed and listening to Jimmi Hendrix. I thought that was rad just cause, I can do that very thing these days but it's not the same anymore. **

**Please excuse any errors, I checked it over but I'm far too excited to get it out to check again.**

**Thank you for reading. Please let me know if it's still worth the wait. **

**LOVE YOUS!**

**-Car**


	16. Maggie May

**CHAPTER 15 - Maggie May**

_"You lured me away from home_

_Just to save you from being alone"_

- Rod Stewart "Maggie May"

**Bella**

_brrring ring ring_

My head hurts a little bit and I feel slow today, but I'm going to answer the phone anyway because it's Edward calling.

I smile at the sound of the classic old telephone ring. He set that himself. Even though we have iPhones he didn't want a song to be his ringtone. Even when I offered up a Stones or Muddy song. He wouldn't have it. He fell in love with the classic sound that the iPhone comes with and this morning it's acting as my alarm.

_brrring ring ring_

"Hey Edward."

"You sound lovely this morning."

I groan and he laughs. It's not the same sound it used to be, it's sadder and doesn't last as long, but I'm happy to hear it anyway.

I most certainly do not sound lovely at all. I do not _feel_ lovely.

"My mom and I celebrated... something last night. I know her birthday was thrown in there but I think her and Phil got engaged? I don't really remember. I only remember sangria."

"Ah, that would explain the text messages."

I pause and rack my memory.

"What text messages?"

His chuckle is low and a little bit more like it is supposed to be, which worries me because that means that whatever the heck he's talking about isn't going to be good for me.

"Why, the dirty ones of course."

I feel my face heat as I groan at myself. It's not like anything I said in the messages could possibly be anything Edward doesn't already know I think, or feel, or want. He knows I want him, I'm actually more handsy than he is at times. But still, it's a little embarassing. Hitting on your boyfriend over texts that you don't even remember sending?

Come on, Bella. That's not classy at all.

"Oh God," I whine, earning more chuckles. "How bad are they?"

"Oh, I'd say they're very _good_, Miss Swan."

His voice deepens and I really, really miss lying in bed with him.

"Edward, what do they say?" I try again, with more force, hoping that he'll just tell me and get it over with.

"Let's just say I now know that you enjoy dessert in bed. On me, apparently. Or off of me..."

"The whipped cream," I gasp, quickly flashing through flashbacks I just got of my mom shooting whipped cream into my mouth from a can.

"Yes, that was mentioned. Quite extensively. There's something else in here about strawberries, too. Chocolate dipped, I believe. It's all pretty fucking delicious sounding, Bella."

He's far too amused by this and I'm flooded with a torrent of pictures of my mom and I the night before, laughing and drinking sangria and eating strawberries with whipped cream. There are a lot of spots where there's just black, no memory, but I'm getting enough to know that we had ourselves a good time with dessert.

Of course my first reaction to that, and really any, situation was to want Edward there with me.

I guess under extreme amounts of inebriation I also feel the need to contact him and give him the low down on my need for him, and then also detail all of the fantasies I have running through my head at the time.

"They are all saved on your phone, too, so you can look at them yourself later if you wish. I know I'm never deleting my copies. It's good really, for us both to be on the same page with things of this nature. Now I know how to bring my A game to your fantasy pool."

I want to be mad at myself for acting like such a fool, but what's the use? It's not like any of it is a lie. And actually, I think that Jasper, for one, would be proud of me. I've never gotten his take on strawberries but he's never said anything ugly about them so they are probably acceptable and I know he'd be on board with me expressing my desires more often.

But on top of all of that this little trist into dirty texting has gotten the edge back in Edward's voice that I have missed over the past week or so. He sounds confident and carefree again, just for a few moments as he taunts me about it, and it's all worth it even if I do feel a little bit like a drunk hussy.

**xXx xXx xXx**

Thanksgiving sucks, just as I knew it would.

It's just me and my mom and Phil, and they are disgustingly happy.

They did get engaged after all. The ring is pretty. It's simple and she won't stop playing with it. They also won't stop smiling at each other.

At least this is different, better, from when I was here in the summer, alone and unloved and bitter. At least this time I can excuse myself from the table and dial someone that I _can_ be as equally sickingly infatuated with.

"Bella, where are you sneaking off to?" my mom's voice stops me before I get too far down the hall into the privacy of my room.

She's been stalking me the entire time I've been here. Whenever she suspects I'm going off to speak to Edward she pops out of the wall and asks me what I'm doing, where I'm going, who I'm calling. I don't really understand why. It's not like I'm going to put him on speakerphone and share him with her or anything. I think if I asked her why she was doing it she'd give me some motherly answer like, "I just want to hear the happiness in your voice when you speak to him," or something like that. She definitely says things like that to me. I know she means it, she really wants me happy, but I still don't feel like sharing him with her yet. She's... excitable.

"I'm going to call Edward," I sigh, hoping that swiftly conveys that I'd rather be already completing this action.

"Oh, how nice. What time is it in Minnesota?"

"Illinois, Mom. Edward's family is in Chicago."

"Oh, right. Burr, it's cold there, too."

I nod and internally roll my eyes. She never listens to details, this woman.

We stand there for a moment, neither of us making a move to leave because she clearly has more to say and it's awkward because I clearly don't want to be standing here waiting for it, but she'll just follow me if I don't wait and listen.

"What's up, mom?"

"Oh, nothing really. I just want to make sure you're ok. You were awfully quiet at dinner, dear."

"I'm fine."

"It's nothing to do with Phil and I?"

She raises her hand and wiggles her ring finger. And she smiles widely.

"Of course not. I'm happy for you guys."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

She pushes her hair out of her face and nods at me with a smile. I really do love my mother's smile. Every single time she graces the world with is she looks genuinely happy, like she couldn't fake it if she tried.

I say, "all right then," and lift my phone in the air as I turn around, silently letting her know that I'm off to do what I should already be doing.

Right when I get to my door her voice stops me again.

"I'm really proud of you, Bell. I hope you know that."

This is odd. We don't talk like this. We don't discuss accomplishments or pride or any of that. I always just assume that she's fine with my life choices, that she doesn't look down on them because she's led such an unconventional lifestyle herself. How could she hold me to any normal standards when she spent most of her life pretending to love things she only wished she could and then running away from them when she realized she couldn't? It hasn't been a stable way to live and hasn't conceded to any conventional family or career choices on her end. As long as I provide myself with the basic necesseties she really has no place to intervene and I don't expect her to. I really have never thought she has any desire too, either.

"Thanks?" I say as a question. I'm so damn confused as to where this came from.

She closes the distance between us and hugs me and sighs and sniffles. Because she's dramatic sometimes.

I sigh and hug her back but I'm a little bit annoyed since I still have no idea what she's getting at and I want to call my boyfriend.

"Can I ask why?"

She laughs. It sounds nice, matching her smile, so I hug her a little tighter and remind myself not to be annoyed with her. She's my mother. She's crazy and loves me.

"I know I don't know much about it, but it seems really nice, what you have with this Edward. I'm just happy to see you happy again. With someone."

"Phil has really made you a sap, mom. You're happy to see me with someone? What happened to the importance of being an independent woman? You shouted that from the mountaintops for years. My whole childhood, practically."

"I know I did, and I still believe in being a strong woman, in not _needing_ a man. I guess I'm just proud of you for opening up to one again after what happened with..."

"James, mom. It's ok to say his name."

"Right. Well, you were very effected by how things ended with him and I worried for you, that you'd become closed off to the idea of love like I did after things between your father and didn't work out."

She's pulled back some and is now holding my shoulders and touching my hair. It's all very sweet and I start to realize that I don't see her often enough. I don't know if I'll put any real effort into changing that, but those are the things you think when your mother is being sincere and kind to you, and looking at you with the loving eyes that mine is looking at me with now.

"I was afraid for a bit, too, honestly. Except I never regretted loving James. I never once thought that I was a fool for doing that. I was just really hurt by what he did, I was in disbelief. And I wasn't sure if I could trust again even if I wanted to."

"Hmm. Yes. And look at you now, fully healed and in love once again."

"Uh..."

I freeze up.

It hasn't been _that_ long since I've been with, or even known, Edward. Jasper accused me of being in love with him before I even let him touch me and now my mom's mentioning it.

I'm not terrified of it or anything. But it's a bit intense. I cannot imagine myself not with him now that I've found him and let him in. I really, really can't.

But the "L word" isn't something to be taken lightly, and it carries weights that might be too heavy for a relationship that's only a few weeks old.

My mom just chuckles and kisses my forehead. She knows me pretty well and can probably tell that I'm having an internal mini-freak out.

"Don't worry about it, sweetie. I'm just making silly mom observations. I probably don't even know what I'm talking about."

I love her for not pushing the matter and for letting me be once it becomes obvious that I'm not going to give her statement any sort of real response. I can tell when she winks at me that she meant everything she said, though, and that she's just doing that thing where she's decided to wait until I confirm that what she's said is true and she can tell me that she knew all along.

I sigh and push the door open to my old room.

I guess we'll have to wait and see if all this love stuff works out for Edward and I.

I don't see it not, but, still.

I also thought I was going to marry James...

I flop down on my old bed and decide to let it go for now. I hit the screen of my phone, tapping Edward's name. I watch as his picture comes up and fills the screen. I smile at that, it's all I need right now to cheer all the way up, because I found him and he helped me feel free again and no matter what happens I can always be grateful to him for that.

His smooth, "Hello, lovely," comes through the reciever after the very first ring.

"I get to see you in two days," I say happily.

"Indeed you do. That is so much better than the five days I haven't had my fucking hands on you, Bella. Time, as the great Stones' would say, is once again on my side."

**xXx xXx xXx **

As I pack my things I grow more and more anxious. Why did I throw my clothes all around my room during the week I was here? Packing always gives me too much time to over think.

I'm excited too, obviously, but this is kind of huge and I just realized it.

I'm meeting Edward's parents tomorrow. The Cullens. The parents.

I'll land in Chicago and then - boom! I'm the girlfriend from crazy California that he's brought home for the holidays. Well, I guess technically it's the post-holiday weekend, but whatever. It's still sort of a big deal, isn't it?

I'm growing a little worried, too, because it's like 4:12 and Edward hasn't called yet. So far today, since like nine, he's called every hour on the hour to count down the time until we're together again. It's very cute, and sort of overwhelming, and definitely ridiculous, but I feel just as excited so I've been encouraging it.

He missed 4:00, though. He's not usually this shotty with the silly things he commits himself to.

I decide to call him instead, just to make sure everything is all right. Counting down by yourself isn't as much fun.

"Mm, hello?"

There it is. His voice is thick and sleepy and I know right away why he missed the 4:00 call. He's probably still got his eyes shut because he didn't greet me by name like he usually does, which means he didn't look at his screen before he answered. I sort of feel bad for waking him with my call, but not really. I love sleepy voice Edward.

"You're late," I tease softly.

"Shit, what time is it? Sorry Bella. Fuck."

I hear him shuffling around and something drops when he says "fuck" and I laugh a little bit because he's usually like this when he wakes up. Clumsy and groggy.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm, yeah. Damnit!"

I'm laughing some more because he's clearly trying to be quiet, to keep his voice down, but things don't seem to be going to well for him.

"What are you doing? Why didn't you call at four? Nap time?"

"Yeah I fell asleep, hold on."

I can tell that he's pulled the phone away from him because all I hear for a few seconds is the air. Then there's more shuffling. Then Edward mumbles something faintly and I hear a deeper voice mumble something quick back.

"Ok, sorry. I'm just switching mom shifts with dad. He was outside making Jorge, our gardner, listen to Led Zeppelin."

"Your dad was makning your gardner listen to Led Zeppelin?" I laugh.

"Oh yeah. He'll probably buy him a fucking Les Paul for Christmas now. He's been complaining about that mariachi shit Jorge plays on his portable radio for years. Apparently today was the intervention."

"Good to know your father is looking out for everyone's musical well being."

We laugh a little bit and I grow a little more nervous about meeting Edward's dad. He seems like an older, almost more extreme version of Edward. Like he's the original model.

"So, hi," Edward says after a pause in the laughter. His voice is softer and wherever he's moved to in the house is much quieter than where he was before, even though it was never loud. "How are you? Sorry for missing four. Are you packed yet?"

He also sounds more awake now and I'm a little bummed about it. I decide that if I can pull it off while I'm at his house in Chicago I'll keep him sleepy for as long as possible Sunday morning.

"I'm pretty much done. And it's fine, you obviously just feel asleep. But I worried."

"No need to worry, I accidentally knocked out while watching TV with my mom. We got her Weeds on DVD for Christmas. She can't get enough of that shit."

He laughs his new, sad laugh and I sigh. In all my excitement to see him I tend to forget what I'm walking into by visiting Chicago.

"No problem, that's really sweet. But, wait, Christmas? That's not for another month."

"Yeah, uh. Well we did Christmas early this year. Last night. Since everything is all screwed... we just thought that while we were all still together for this holiday we'd take care the next one, too. Just in case we can't all be together by then."

I want to off myself for how stupid I feel. He sounds so, so sad talking about them taking advantage of the time they know they have together. Because who knows how much time they have in the future? From what he tells me his mother is not doing good.

I've never delt with anything like this before. I've never been around such deep sadness, not while I've been old enough to comprehend it.

"I'm sorry, Edward."

"Don't apologize, Bella. Just get here safe tomorrow. I need you to remind me that everything doesn't just fucking suck."

"I'm sort of worried that I'll just make things worse, though," I say, deciding that I should just tell him what I'm feeling since he loves honesty so much.

"That's impossible. Stop being crazy, woman."

"No, really. I have no experience dealing with something so serious... or, you know, sad. I just don't want to make it more awkward or anything. I don't want to let you down."

He sighs heavily and I feel even worse. Maybe I should have kept it to myself. He's dealing with so much already, he's told me about how Alice has basically fallen apart since being home, and now I'm dumping my dumb insecurities on him.

"Well, I have a few questions for you," he says with a voice that is now one hundred percent awake, and a little bit hard.

"Um, ok..."

"Have you cheated on me?"

"What?"

I'm completely thrown off by his question. Where the hell did he get that from?

"Edward, what the hell? Why would I cheat on you?"

"I don't know, things happen," he says in the ironically nonchalant way only he can when he's talking about serious, serious things. "Have you?"

"Of course not-"

"All right. Have you decided you don't want to be with me? That I'm not what you want?"

"What? No. Of course not."

"Then you are in no danger of letting me down, Bella. I understand that you have nerves coming into this situation. It's not normal, it's not comfortable, and it's probably not fair of me to ask you to walk into this shit storm with me, but I need you here. I want you here. And unless you do anything related to leaving me there is no way you can let me down. Ever."

The hardness in his voice has turned to conviction and I sit down on my bed and sigh.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Nope. No apologizing. I understand your worry but I just needed to tell it to fuck off ASAP. You have nothing to worry about aside from being turned off by watching me pathetically trying to hold my shit together. It's not flattering. I should probably be worried about letting you down."

"Don't be."

"Eh, I'm not really. I believe in us, Bella. Our journey so far has been unusual. Why not throw a gigantic family crisis in during the preliminary dating period?"

We both darkly chuckle at that and then it gets quiet again, fairly quickly.

"Thank for all of that, I guess I needed to hear it. Even though you have made it pretty dang obvious that you're not going anywhere... perspective gets scewed when things get real. I just really want to be there for you because I know you'd be amazing to me if the tables were turned."

"I would be, wouldn't I?" he asks with another chuckle.

I huff into the phone and smile very widely.

"Seriously though, Bella, that's what this is all about, right? Whatever we're doing together. I know we're technically dating but it really is more than that. You make me happy even when nothing inside of me feels like being happy. I just, fuck, I know that you being here is going to help me because I really love everything about you."

I suck in a silent breath because he did it, he dropped the L bomb. He did it in a round-about way. A safe way. He said "everything about me". I understand the difference between what was said and what could have been said, but still.

"I love everything about you, too."

There's a heavy pause. This isn't the same as saying "I love you". I know that. I know that he knows that, too. But it's still a step in that direction, it's a definition that these feelings are seriously serious. It's letting our minds, our mouths, our hearts get used to the sensation of correlating _love_ with each other.

"Shit, when did we turn into such Hallmark cards? I can't wait to taste your skin again, Bella. I can't wait for tomorrow. I want to say these cheese ball things directly to your pretty face."

I laugh and swoon and zip up my suitcase.

"Only twenty more hours left."

**xXx xXx xXx**

In the airport I have to ignore a lot of Edward's calls. He's resilient, that one. But no good can come from speaking on your phone while trying to get through securtiy, so I'm ignoring him for now. It's only been about seventeen minutes sicne I texted him and told him I was at the airport anyway.

Once I get to my gate with a Starbucks in hand I pull out my phone and laugh to myself.

The blue information bubble that has popped up on the home screen of my phone tells me that I have:

**Edward Cullen** Missed Call (5)

**Edward Cullen** Text (4)

**Alice Cullen** Text

**Jasper** Text

I roll my eyes and smile at all the missed calls. Of course he didn't leave a voicemail, he never does. He's too enthralled with the little speech bubble-like form of the text messaging on our phones. He says he'd rather produce more of those than ramble endlessly to the nothing that is my voicemail inbox.

I open Alice's text first.

_Bella! I want you to know that I cannot wait until you get here, and I hope your flight goes safely. I also really hope you like it here no matter how gray the moods are. PS one night we are having a sleepover in my room, Eddie be damned ;)_

I smile wider after reading her words and appreciate that we have become friends outside of me just being her brother's girlfriend. Then I immediately start making plans to sneak out of my sleepover with her because I love the girl dearly but I doubt her cuddle is as fulfilling as Edward's.

Jasper's text is next. It's short.

_Fly safe, love strong, bring them home whole. Hearts, Miss Maggie._

I have a different, special smile for Jasper's text. It's filled with love and warmth but also amusement. He's started calling me Maggie in reference to Rod Stewart's song "Maggie May". He claims that I am like Rod's Maggie, alluring and persuasive while altogether unaware of it. I humor him and dance to the song whenever he plays it and dedicates it to me, but I don't see it. He actually has it backwards. I've never been Maggie. Not even close. I've always been like Rod, especially with James. It scared me how much I related, actually, the first time I really listened to lyrics.

Anyway, I made that song my ringtone for him and now I'm humming it because it's stuck in my head. I think of Edward as my internal voice sings of keeping someone else from being alone, and then I read his texts and my most special, best feeling smile takes over.

_If you aren't answering because you're already on the plane I'm going to feel like a jackass for thinking you depart later than you do..._

_Nope, I just checked the flight status online. You don't leave for another hour and three minutes just like I thought. Which means you should be answering, shouldn't you? Yes, yes you should._

_Things Edward Cullen Doesn't Love At All Right Now: 1. When his sister claims she will steal his gf from him for a night of girlie sleepover, 2. The fucking peppermint schnapps that his dad bought for "dessert", and 3. Being ignored. By you. Right now. When I miss you so damn much._

_Ok, are you engaging in an airport hook up? Is that why you are so MIA? I'm only ok with it if it's with a pilot. Or a female flight attendant. No matter who it is, you make sure to hook us up with free miles, baby ;) _

I'm still laughing when he picks up the phone and I don't stop when he speaks because he actually sounds really happy, for the first time in a while.

"So which is it, Bella? The pilot or the hottest airport fantasy I've ever had? Please say lady attendant... please..."

* * *

**So how was your Thanksgiving? (If you celebrate it, of course. Some countries don't, obviously, but I'm not sure if I have any international readers on this story)**

**Mine was awful, I hate T-giving. Always have. I can't stand the food. If you were a reader of my first fic, IEWIS, then you'll remember the phenomenon of Pizza-giving. I really will enforce that more someday so I don't spend the whole day hungry like I did this year! When it was over I went to my friend's house and finally found some bliss in his macaroni & cheese and white wine ;) **

**Anyway, thanks again for coming back if you are still sticking around. If there are any newbies, welcome! **

**LOVE YOUS!**

**-Car**


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